St George's Day 2017

[Munchkin]

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[trooper]

Nice one Munchkin. Probably get arrested in the UK for a similar post!

[Maisiemoo]

Nice one Munchkin. Probably get arrested in the UK for a similar post!

No way! My local High Street is festooned with England flags and on Friday the schoolchilldren held a St Georges Parade, we also had a town crier in attendance.

[David]

Proud to be English

[rocking]

Raise your glass or cup of tea for St George's Day.

[Groucho]

Supposedly born in Cappadocia (in modern day Turkey) so very English indeed...

[fatouche]

Yes indeed, he's as English as the three English lions, two of which represent the Duchy of Normandy and the Duchy of Aquitaine.

[MoonageDaydream]

So if St. George was born in Turkey perhaps he should be the posthumous Patron of the Anglo Turkish Association in the TRNC!

[waarigeo]

Proud to be English

No ambition then???

[johnerebus]

Saint George (Greek: Γεώργιος, Geṓrgios; Latin: Georgius; AD 275–281 to 23 April 303), according to legend, was a Roman soldier of Greek origin and officer in the Guard of Roman emperor Diocletian, who was ordered his death for failing to recant his Christian faith. As a Christian martyr, he later became one of the most venerated saints in Christianity and in particular the Crusades.

[Ragged Robin]

And the heir to the throne is Greek on his father's side, and mostly German on his mother's, with added Dutch, Danish, French and Scottish!

[jofra]

To paraphrase Professor Henry Higgins (Rex Harrison) - "By George, You've got it!"....

[Ragged Robin]

Lyrics for A Song of Patriotic Prejudice by Flanders & Swann
The English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.

The rottenest bits of these islands of ours
We've left in the hands of three unfriendly powers
Examine the Irishman, Welshman or Scot
You'll find he's a stinker, as likely as not.

Och aye, awa' wi' yon Edinburgh Festival

The Scotsman is mean, as we're all well aware
And bony and blotchy and covered with hair
He eats salty porridge, he works all the day
And he hasn't got bishops to show him the way!

The English, the English, the English are best
I wouldn't give tuppence for all of the rest.

Ah hit me old mother over the head with a shillelagh

The Irishman now out contempt is beneath
He sleeps in his boots and he lies through his teeth
He blows up policemen, or so I have heard
And blames it on Cromwell and William the Third!

The English are noble, the English are nice,
And worth any other at double the price

Ah, iechyd da

The Welshman's dishonest and cheats when he can
And little and dark, more like monkey than man
He works underground with a lamp in his hat
And he sings far too loud, far too often, and flat!

And crossing the Channel, one cannot say much
Of French and the Spanish, the Danish or Dutch
The Germans are German, the Russians are red,
And the Greeks and Italians eat garlic in bed!

The English are moral, the English are good
And clever and modest and misunderstood.

And all the world over, each nation's the same
They've simply no notion of playing the game
They argue with umpires, they cheer when they've won
And they practice beforehand which ruins the fun!

The English, the English, the English are best
So up with the English and down with the rest.

It's not that they're wicked or natuarally bad
It's knowing they're foreign that makes them so mad!

[johnerebus]

Oh a Brit
A Brit
A man of true grit
And of course
A stiff upper lip
No Namby pamby here
Johnny Foreigner beware
No expression
Of emotion
Stand in line
Stand in queue
This is what you need to do
To show you’re
A Brit through and through
So once again let’s make Britain Great
Johnny Foreigner
Get out of the way
Listen to what I have to say
We’re making Britain Great again
“Great at what,” I hear you say
I reply
“Those things”
We were great at yesterday
Morris dancing,
Tea,
Snobbery,
Moaning
Whinging
Shall gas,
Gardens,
The full English,
The Great Bake off,
Free Speech
Silly me
I’ve gone out of rhyme
And some on the list above
Are out of time
Oh cruel fate
It’s too late
For Britain to
Once again be great

[Ragged Robin]

Good one, Johnerebus, did you write it yourself.

To put another point of view: John of Gaunt's famous speech from Richard II. (By the way my spellcheck dislikes Shakespeare's spelling and grammar)

"This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demiparadise
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England"

My underlining - I always though the Channel Tunnel was a mistake!

[johnerebus]

Thanks for the compliment RR.I did write it meself. Took about 30 mins. I have lots of stuff. Do you remember Lance Percival who improvised calypso style news events of the time on That Was The Week That Was in the 60s. Fast, witty, informed and clever and a joy to watch and listen to

[johnerebus]

A London hero of mine, advocate of free love, visionary, poet, revolutionary, writer of 'Songs of Innocence and Experience', painter and all round good guy, William Blake.
And did those feet in ancient time,
Walk upon England's mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England's pleasant pastures seen!

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England's green & pleasant Land.

[Dalartokat]

A London hero of mine, advocate of free love, visionary, poet, revolutionary, writer of 'Songs of Innocence and Experience', painter and all round good guy, William Blake.
And did those feet in ancient time,
Walk upon England's mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England's pleasant pastures seen!

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England's green & pleasant Land.

I loved singing this at school assembly, just sung it again whilst getting ready for the day. Thanks for the reminder.

[Ragged Robin]

Surely that is "Jerusulem" of Women's Institute fame. You can hear it every year at the Last Night of the Proms. The other one is:



Land of Hope and Glory
Lyrics

Land of Hope and Glory, Mother of the Free,
How shall we extol thee, who are born of thee?
Wider still, and wider, shall thy bounds be set;
God, who made thee mighty, make thee mightier yet!

Truth and Right and Freedom, each a holy gem,
Stars of solemn brightness, weave thy diadem.

Tho' thy way be darkened, still in splendour drest,
As the star that trembles o'er the liquid West.

Throned amid the billows, throned inviolate,
Thou hast reigned victorious, thou has smiled at fate.

Land of Hope and Glory, fortress of the Free,
How may we extol thee, praise thee, honour thee?

Hark, a mighty nation maketh glad reply;
Lo, our lips are thankful, lo, our hearts are high!

Hearts in hope uplifted, loyal lips that sing;
Strong in faith and freedom, we have crowned our King!

[johnerebus]

Yes it is Jerusalem by William Blake and the bid difference between it and L of H and G is one patriotically eulogizes while the other seeks improvement, e.g. "Among these dark Satanic Mills" and, "I will not cease from Mental Fight, Till we have built Jerusalem."

[Ragged Robin]

I see what you mean Johnerebus.

What about this one for patriotism:

Rupert Brooke

The Soldier

IF I should die, think only this of me:
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is forever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's, breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by the suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

[Ragged Robin]

Or this one. This always gives me a pang of nostalgia, particularly as I once lived near Grantchester and remember one sunny Sunday eating cream teas in the garden of the Old Vicarage . I have to remind myself this is an England which no longer exists, if indeed it ever did!

Rupert Brooke

From The Old Vicarage, Grantchester

(Cafe des Westens, Berlin, May 1912)

Just now the lilac is in bloom,
All before my little room;
And in my flower-beds, I think,
Smile the carnation and the pink;
And down the borders, well I know,
The poppy and the pansy blow . . .
Oh! there the chestnuts, summer through,
Beside the river make for you
A tunnel of green gloom, and sleep
Deeply above; and green and deep
The stream mysterious glides beneath,
Green as a dream and deep as death.
— Oh, damn! I know it! and I know
How the May fields all golden show,
And when the day is young and sweet,
Gild gloriously the bare feet
That run to bathe . . .
'Du lieber Gott!'

Here am I, sweating, sick, and hot,
And there the shadowed waters fresh
Lean up to embrace the naked flesh.
Temperamentvoll German Jews
Drink beer around; — and THERE the dews
Are soft beneath a morn of gold.
Here tulips bloom as they are told;
Unkempt about those hedges blows
An English unofficial rose;

[johnerebus]

I think it did exist at least in the poets eye and some of the scenery in our ordinary eyes. Like Van Gogh's South of France paintings he omitted the industrial choosing to paint the beauty of nature

[Ragged Robin]

I think it did exist at least in the poet's eye and some of the scenery in our ordinary eyes. Like Van Gogh's South of France paintings he omitted the industrial choosing to paint the beauty of nature

So basically beauty is in the eye of the beholder? What about Monet (or was it Manet , I always confuse them!) whose colour pallette and possibly the sort of "blurring" of the scenes , it has suggested might have been due to the condition of his eyesight?

Something like this happened to me . On my first holiday here in the 90's, all my photos of the beauties of N. Cyprus were marred by some piece of rubbish, broken down car etc in the background. On my last holiday before making the final decision to move I deliberately took photos of all the less attractive aspects of the country to remind me in absentia, and found on getting them developed that each one had a lovely view in the background, or a beautiful plant, or flower growing out of the rubbish tip!

I wonder what represents their native land to others? To me the sense of smell is the most evocative. The smell of new mown hay brings back my early childhood when we lived opposite a farm, and that of newly cut grass reminds me of later days lazing on the lawn on a summer Sunday afternoon after a hard day at work. In England my memories of Cyprus were always accompanied by the aroma of pine trees with the scent of the sea as a back note.