The scent is that of wood-smoke, of fruit and of some fallen leaves. This is the beginning of the pageant of autumn, of that gradual pompous dying which has no parallel in human life yet draws us to it with sure bonds. Edward Thomas #BookWormSat

'Nor may he hope ever That he shall evade from that vault of vipers, But, drowned in darkness, there shall dwell, Ever for ages without end, In that black abode, bereft of bliss.' -From the Old English poem Judith 🎨Simon Vouet #BookWormSat

“Famous for his deeds a warrior may be, but it remains a mystery where his life will end, when he may no longer dwell in the mead-hall among his own.” ✍️Unknown Poet, Beowulf - Trans: Seamus Heaney #BookWormSat Image - Sutton Hoo Hoard - Helmet

I sing this song, full of sadness, this song which is myself. I will tell, what I am able, about what hardships I have faced—since I grew up, recently or long ago, never more than now. Always I suffer my misery of exile. The Wife's Lament, Exeter Book (960-990) #BookWormSat 🎨Dante Gabriel Rossetti

‘after its feasting it seeks its rest in a secret place within an earthen cave— there the mighty fighter for three nights’ space wends into slumber, occupied by sleep’ ~ The Panther, From The Exeter Book. #BookWormSat#Caturday 🖼️ Wellcome Collection

I am my parent’s only child, and though I am not worthy of so great a privilege, I would like to regard you as my brother, for there is no other member in my family in whom I can put my trust as I can in you, 1/2 ✍️Leoba's letter to St Boniface (732 AD) -her kinsman #BookWormSat

#BookWormSat This little note in the margin of a manuscript eloquently conveys the dread of Viking raids felt by the Anglo Saxons ...

JPjoy13.bsky.socialMar 16, 2024 1:54pm

#BookWormSat "Bitter is the wind tonight It tosses the ocean’s white hair Tonight I fear not the fierce warriors of Norway Coursing on the Irish sea" Translation of a 9th century text written in the margin of an Irish manuscript, author unknown. 📷Stiftsbibliothek, St Gallon, Switzerland

‘Lest man know not That he on dry land loveliest liveth, List how I, care-wretched, on ice-cold sea, Weathered the winter, wretched outcast Deprived of my kinsmen; Hung with hard ice-flakes, where hail-scur flew.’ ~ The Seafarer for #BookWormSat 🖼️ Gustave Courbet

#BookWormSat 14 September: Autumn Some seasonal poems that I enjoy. I'll save my spooky ones for next month! Lucy Maud Montgomery - In the Days of the Golden Rod (1916) Archibald Lampman - The Passing of Autumn (1900) Will Carleton - Autumn Days (1873)

‘It is autumn in Moominvalley, for how else can spring come back again?’ ~ Finn Family Moomintroll, Tove Jansson. #BookWormSat