BIRDS IN THE BEARD (published in CA News, December 2004) There was an Old Man with a beard, Who said, 'It is just as I feared! Two Owls and a Hen, Four Larks and a Wren, Have all built their nests in my beard!' CAPRICIOUS CAPERS published in CA News There was an Old Person of Ischia, Whose conduct grew friskier and friskier; He danced hornpipes and jigs, And ate thousands of figs, That lively Old Person of Ischia. DEFLATED published in CA News, said at Horatian Society There was an Old Man in a boat, Who said ‘I’m afloat! I’m afloat!’ When they said ‘No! you ain’t!’ He was ready to faint, That unhappy Old Man in a boat. TERRA FIRMA published in CA News There was a Young Lady of Portugal, Whose ideas were excessively nautical: She climbed up a tree, to examine the sea, But declared she would never leave Portugal. SHOE SHOCK Said at Horatian Society dinner There was an Old Man of the Wrekin Whose shoes made a horrible creaking; But they said ‘Tell us whether Your shoes are of leather, Or of what, you Old Man of the Wrekin?’ NONCHALANT There was a Young lady of Norway Who sat herself down in a doorway. When the door squashed her flat, She exclaimed ‘What of that?’ This courageous Young lady of Norway. TOO LONG BY HALF There was an old man of Coblenz, The length of whose legs was immense ; He went with one prance, from Turkey to France, That surprising old man of Coblenz. EASTERN PROMISE There was a young lady of Tyre, Who swept the loud chords of a lyre ; At the sound of each sweep, she enraptured the deep, And enchanted the city of Tyre. UNHEEDED There was an Old Man who said, "Well! Will nobody answer this bell? I have pulled day and night, till my hair has grown white, But nobody answers this bell!" DIRGE OF A SHREW There was an old person of Tartary Who divided his jugular artery. But he screeched to his wife, and she said »Oh, my life! Your death will be felt by all Tartary. » VULCAN’S STITHY published in CA News There was an Old Person of Gretna, Who rushed down the crater of Etna; When they said, ‘Is it hot?’ he replied, ‘No, it’s not!’ That mendacious Old Person of Gretna. ATHLETE’S FEAT There was a Young Girl of Majorca, Whose Aunt was a very fast walker; She walked seventy miles, and leaped fifteen stiles, Which astonished that Girl of Majorca. STRICT REGIMEN published in CA News There was an Old Person of Sparta Who had twenty-five sons and one daughter; He fed them on snails, and weighed them in scales, That wonderful person of Sparta. MAD COW There was an Old Man of Aôsta, Who possessed a large Cow, but he lost her; But they said, 'Don't you see, she has rushed up a tree? You invidious Old Man of Aôsta HONG KONG There was an old man of Hong Kong Who never did anything wrong. He lay on his back With his head in a sack, That innocuous old man of Hong Kong. DOOM WITH A VIEW There was an Old Person of Florence, Who held mutton chops in abhorrence; He purchased a Bustard, and fried ihm in Mustard, Which choked that Old Person of Florence, DISCOMBOBULATED CA News and Horatian Society There was an Old Person of Diss, Who said, ‘It is this! It is this!’ When they said, ‘What?’ or ‘Which?’ – He jumped into a ditch, Which absorbed that Old Person of Diss.

* barbatus hospes nidificantium: ‘fit quod timebam! strix, trochilus, canens gallina cum bubone, alaudae quattuor, inseruere nidos.’ * lasciviores Inarimae, senex, misces choreas; innumerabiles mandis, Pithecusæe, ficus; fersque pedem numeris marinis. * ‘heus, nonne no? no! nat mea trabs,’ ait vir lintre vectus; praetereuntium cui turba: ‘tu non nas.’ recessit deficiens miserandum in alveum. * non Lusitanae mente cadunt maris naves; ut aequor spectet, in arborem conscendit. inde effata: ‘nunquam te, Tage, teque, Duri, relinquam.’ * raucis cothurnis improbe Cornovi, crepide crocis. ‘ num corio crepis? quonamve?’ sic horrent canoras carbatinas Viroconienses. * Septentrionum nubilis incola incauta portae sedit in ostio. elisa, ‘quidnam tum?’ vigore clamat Hyperboreos feroci. * immensa saltans ex Asia gradu imponit uno crura Parisiis, quem Rhenus eduxit Mosella compare sesquipedaliorem. * Phoenissa chordas raucisonas lyrae cum nympha magnis verreret ictibus, immane delectabat aequor et Tyriam recreabat urbem. * ‘longum sonanti num quis adest seni? canescit, inquam, caesaries mihi: pernoxque tinnitu vocavi perque diem: neque oboedit ullus.’ * qui Chersonesi se iugulaverat dat soricinas gutture nenias. cui sponsa: ‘vexabuntur omnes morte tua, mea vita, Tauri.’ * ex Hadriani moenibus advena cratera in Aetnae desilit irruens. ‘ardetne?’ ‘nequaquam.’ fefellit Scoticus Empedocles Sicanos. * tu dena vadis milia septies, ter quinque sepes tu superevolas, matertera, admiranda nepti: quin Baliaris hians stupescit. * o pasta proles fotaque cochleis! examinasti tu, pater, unicam post quinque vigintique natos, mire Lacon, trutina puellam. * Praetorianus possidet haud levem perditque vaccam. ‘nonne vides?’ ait vicinus, ‘ascendit comantes, invidiose, oneratque ramos.’ * urbs, a Britannis reddita Seribus! vir, purus omnis criminis improbi, velavit in sacco supinus innocuum caput, et recumbit. * non Arniensem lanigeri caro delectat agni. comparat otidem, quae fricta cum flavo sinapi fauce premit perimitque Tuscum. * Icenus, annis nempe senilibus marcens, ‘id hoc est’, inquit, ‘et hoc id est’. cum ‘quid? quod?’ aut ‘quod? quid?’ rogarent, desilit excipiturque fossa.

In the house of Death pain and pleasure are one. Never mind the face he wears; those bare sockets, that sharp grin. Grasp him, hard. Push against those jutting hip bones. In this tangle of sheets (scented with sex and rot) Reason dissolves like bone in acid, revealing something else Under the mask. There is something beautiful, Madness, perhaps, or possibly truth. In the joyful agony of this moment a revelation blooms. Muscles crowd in to cover the bone. Naked, Under a sheen of silk and lily-dew, Skeletal hands clutch fat, round paps. Nearing the threshold of something unspeakable, Open your eyes; behold your lover. Tension Contorts the fibers of your heart. Trembling limbs threaded together; a blissful arrhythmia. Even Death can learn the pleasure of a shudder. Even Death can learn the pleasure of a shudder. Trembling limbs threaded together; a blissful arrhythmia Contorts the fibers of your heart. Open your eyes. Behold your lover; tension. Nearing the threshold of something unspeakable, Skeletal hands clutch fat, round paps. Under a sheen of silk and lily-dew, Muscles crowd in to cover the bone. Naked In the joyful agony of this moment, a revelation blooms. Madness, perhaps, or possibly truth. Under the mask there is something beautiful. Reason dissolves like bone in acid, revealing something else. In this tangle of sheets (scented with sex and rot) Grasp him, hard. Push against those jutting hip bones; Never mind the face he wears. Those bare sockets; that sharp grin. In the house of Death pain and pleasure are one.

In Mortis aede mel dolor, fel gaudium. Ne terreant te rictus, orbes, os grave: Grande prehendas, pelvis ossa comprimas. Instat libido putris in linis odor. Recincta mens ut ossa aceto: ostenditur, Ut excidit persona, pulchritudinis Merum, et furoris, veritatis omina. In his doloris gaudiis mens certior: Miscentur ossi muscula et nuda omnia: Udis sub ortus palliis cum lilio Surgunt papillae quas premunt durae manus. Nefanda sunt propinqua: vade ad limina! Orbes recludens ipsum amatorem vide! Cordis toros contorquet incitatio. Tremunt beati ardoris artus artubus. Et Mors voluptatem tremoris excipit. Et Mors voluptatem tremoris excipit. Tremunt beati ardoris artus artubus. Cordis toros contorquet incitatio. Orbes recludens ipsum amatorem vide! Nefanda sunt propinqua: vade ad limina! Surgunt papillae quas premunt durae manus. Udis sub ortus palliis cum lilio Miscentur ossi muscula et nuda omnia: In his doloris gaudiis mens certior: Merum, et furoris, veritatis omina, Ut excidit persona, pulchritudinis. Recincta mens ut ossa aceto ostenditur. Instat libido putris in linis odor. Grande prehendas, pelvis ossa comprimas. Ne terreant te rictus, orbes, os grave: In Mortis aede mel dolor, fel gaudium.

"O where are you going?" said reader to rider, "That valley is fatal where furnaces burn, Yonder's the midden whose odours will madden, That gap is the grave where the tall return." "O do you imagine," said fearer to farer, "That dusk will delay on your path to the pass, Your diligent looking discover the lacking, Your footsteps feel from granite to grass?" "O what was that bird," said horror to hearer, "Did you see that shape in the twisted trees? Behind you swiftly the figure comes softly, The spot on your skin is a shocking disease." "Out of this house"---said rider to reader, "Yours never will"---said farer to fearer "They're looking for you"---said hearer to horror, As he left them there, as he left them there.

sic equiti loquitur lector: ‘quo vadere velles? ~~vallis enim vivis ignibus illa necat. est fimus, infesti qua te furiabit odores; ~~in spatio tumulus, qua redit altus, hiat.’ sic pavidus: ‘peregrine’ inquit ‘cito faucibus instans! ~~num tentant tenebrae mox moderare moras? num vigil invenies vacui vestigia visu? ~~num, si stant lapides, mulserit herba pedes?’ ‘qualis avis fuit, auditor?’ modo dixerat horror: ~~‘arboribus tortis nonne patebat avis? te sequitur pede pernici furtiva figura; ~~in cute gutta tua desidet, atra lues.’ lectori sed eques: ‘proficiscere, tecta relinquas.’ ~~‘nec tibi pes...’ pavido sic peregrinus ait. auditor: ‘peteris!’ petiturque, ut dixerat, horror. ~~ille ibi liquit eos, ille ibi liquit eos.

Dare any call Permissiveness An educational success? Saner those class-rooms which I sat in, Compelled to study Greek and Latin.

Latin by Timothy Adès: profuit, heu! puero discenda licentia nulli: sanius, heu! linguae, Graece, Latine, tuae.

Miss J Hunter Dunn, Miss J Hunter Dunn, Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun, What strenuous singles we played after tea, We in the tournament - you against me! Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy, The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy, With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won, I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won. The warm-handled racket is back in its press, But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less. Her father's euonymus shines as we walk, And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk, And cool the verandah that welcomes us in To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin. The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath, The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path, As I struggle with double-end evening tie, For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I. On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with     sports, And westering, questioning settles the sun On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn. The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall, The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall, My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair And there on the landing's the light on your hair. By roads 'not adopted', by woodlanded ways, She drove to the club in the late summer haze, Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells. Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, I can hear from the car-park the dance has begun. Oh! full Surrey twilight! importunate band! Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand! Around us are Rovers and Austins afar, Above us, the intimate roof of the car, And here on my right is the girl of my choice, With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice, And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said, And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead. We sat in the car park till twenty to one And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

Filia Venanti, castris te finxit Apollo,     tinxit et aere artus, pinxit et arte genas. strinximus undecima clavas (pila pellitur!) hora,     altera tu vehemens, strenuus alter ego! tu superas pueros motu, cita qualis hirundo:     laetor, inops puncti; ter, quater ipsa notas. risisti, pariter secura ac sedula victrix:     conficior forma, pulchra Atalanta, tua. filia Venanti, Venanti filia nostri,     palma tua est: uror, laetor, amore feror! conditur in prelum capulo modo clava tepente,     sed mea me victrix (stat coma!) semper amat. tendimus ad patrem. Venanti euonymus albet;     fundimus incepta, qua casa, verba via; porticus excepit zephyris; nova nuntiat aether;     iuniperus tilia tingitur, apta bibi. sub thalamo lucet maculoso semita musco;     calda aqua mi resonat; conifer hortus olet. papilione agitor duplici: fas cingere collum!     haud aequi petimus, qua pila parva, choros. at tua braca chlamysque iacent, thalamique renidet     pariete lacteola plurima palma pilae. sol tetigitque trabem tingitque, Atalanta, fenestram:     occidit, exquirens quid tibi fata parent. Niliacae splendent species in pariete pictae:     aula micat taedis: nos rota parva manet. quernus ubi gradus est, ibi sum; laqueata supersunt,     crine refulgenti qua, mea vita, nites. autumno petimus - lora ipsa dat - aere turbam,     quo nemore, aedilis, non tua cura via est! venimus in vicum sero multum aere sonantem;     boleti et viridi germine pinus olent. filia Venanti, Venanti filia nostri,     sistimus: ingeminat coeptus in aure chorus. tibia nil cessans! perfecta crepuscula campi!     laetor, Amazoniam me tetigisse manum. undique circumstant bigae, procul undique currus;     clam nos sub grato culmine noster habet: naribus incurvis capior vocisque canore:     unica mi laevo dextra puella sedet. ecquid haruspicii vetat adfectare choreos?     fragrat odor pallae: conscia lingua tacet! quattuor in curru sub nocte remansimus horas,     tempore et ex illo sponsa Atalanta mihist.

I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, In the dream’s gentle wave lingering. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Her tenderness, my fascination. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Sweetness is the glory of the dream. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Her betrayal, my depression. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Heartbroken in the gloom of the dream. I don’t know Which direction the wind is blowing - I am in a dream, Dimness is the glory of the dream.

nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   undulat ut somnus, lene liquore moror. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   quippe puella bonast: captor et allicior. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   dulcedo, somni gloria magna mei! nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   tristitiam tradit falsa puella mihi. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   in somni tenebris torqueor, excrucior. nescioquo tendunt venti: vagor incola somni.   caligo, somni gloria maesta mei!

Yes. I remember Adlestrop— The name, because one afternoon Of heat the express-train drew up there Unwontedly. It was late June. The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat. No one left and no one came On the bare platform. What I saw Was Adlestrop—only the name And willows, willow-herb, and grass, And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry, No whit less still and lonely fair Than the high cloudlets in the sky. And for that minute a blackbird sang Close by, and round him, mistier, Farther and farther, all the birds Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

non mihi mente tuum cadit indelebile nomen, ~~Selda, ubi inassueta compede currus iter sisterat. excelso tempestas torrida sole, ~~deficiens mensis Junius, alta dies. sibilat aere vapor, purgat mala gutture tussis; ~~nullus homo venit limine, nullus abit. solum, Selda, tuum nomen, tu portus amoene, ~~nil aliud visumst! herba humilisque salix et grandes salices, ulmaria pendula filis ~~flos redolens, foeni plurima congeries, arida, sola, nitens, immota ut in aere nubes ~~exiguae; gaudes voce propinqua brevi tu, merula! et procul hinc, ubi iam nebulosior aer, ~~pinnati numerant carmina grata chori, argutae volucrum quot habes, Oxonia, turbae, ~~quot regio Glevi Nervia condit aves.

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.   I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.   I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.

quo sitis ire mihi, nihil est nisi pontus et aer. ~~ nave petam celsa sidere fisus aquas! vela tremant, sonet Eurus, agat vis torva gubernum, ~~sit nova pulla dies, acre vapore mare. exagitant clarae surgenti gurgite voces: ~~Tethyos infaustum iussa negare deae! hoc satis est: canis moveantur nubibus aurae, ~~spuma volet ventis, carmine mergus ovet. me, Neptune, iuvant via mergi parsque balaenae, ~~ vita peregrini, saevior Eurus acu. sint mihi sermones hilares comitisque cachinni, ~~et, cum res fuerit, somnia amoena, sopor.