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incandescensI had that in my mind earlier today. I believe I could repeat the whole of the first verse, and maybe a few fragments from later. "In yon straight path a thousand / May well be stopped by three / Now who will stand at either hand / And keep the bridge with me?"
Or later, "And those behind cried, "Forward!" / And those in front cried, "Back!"" -- well, we all know that one anyhow, don't we?
Fairly peaceful day at work, with, well, a lot of work to do, but not an impossible amount, and not impossibly hard either. Just a case of sit down and slog, and frankly, on a Monday, I'm not much minded for original thought and great gems of brilliance. (Yes, I do remember what that used to do in AD&D. Yes, I have a flypaper memory. Pfui.)
Currently utilising history book. Amusing. First we have the markets in English towns in the twelth century on Sundays in the churchyard. Then Pope Innocent III launches a campaign against this, in which the traditional "den of thieves" tag is used. So then people start holding markets on the Monday instead. And then, with the proliferation of new markets, the old market towns -- and the people who had the rights to hold the markets and charge tolls -- started to complain, and even took it to court.
(Now, where to put the magi into it. Or where the magi claim they come into it. Nobody ever said that received history inside a tradition had to be accurate. Oh yes, we helped inspire Magna Carta, really we did, my teacher told me so, now shut up and learn your declensions.)
---
'I am told you have abandoned writing... set your face towards work in the fields.... Remember you not the condition of the cultivator faced with the registering of the harvest-tax, when the snake has carried off half the corn and the hippopotamus has devoured the rest? The mice abound in the fields. The locusts descend. The cattle devour. The sparrows bring disaster upon the cultivator. The remainder that is on the threshing floor is at an end, it falls to the thieves. The value of the hired cattle is lost. And now the scribe lands on the river bank and is about to register the harvest tax. The janitors carry staves and the Nubians rods of palm, and they say "Hand over the corn" though there is none. The cultivator is beaten all over, he is bound and thrown into the well, soused and dipped head downward. His wife has been bound in his presence, his children are in fetters. His neighbours abandon them and are fled. So their corn flies away. But the scribe is ahead of everyone. He who works in writing is not taxed, he has no dues to pay. Mark it well.'
Or later, "And those behind cried, "Forward!" / And those in front cried, "Back!"" -- well, we all know that one anyhow, don't we?
Fairly peaceful day at work, with, well, a lot of work to do, but not an impossible amount, and not impossibly hard either. Just a case of sit down and slog, and frankly, on a Monday, I'm not much minded for original thought and great gems of brilliance. (Yes, I do remember what that used to do in AD&D. Yes, I have a flypaper memory. Pfui.)
Currently utilising history book. Amusing. First we have the markets in English towns in the twelth century on Sundays in the churchyard. Then Pope Innocent III launches a campaign against this, in which the traditional "den of thieves" tag is used. So then people start holding markets on the Monday instead. And then, with the proliferation of new markets, the old market towns -- and the people who had the rights to hold the markets and charge tolls -- started to complain, and even took it to court.
(Now, where to put the magi into it. Or where the magi claim they come into it. Nobody ever said that received history inside a tradition had to be accurate. Oh yes, we helped inspire Magna Carta, really we did, my teacher told me so, now shut up and learn your declensions.)
---
'I am told you have abandoned writing... set your face towards work in the fields.... Remember you not the condition of the cultivator faced with the registering of the harvest-tax, when the snake has carried off half the corn and the hippopotamus has devoured the rest? The mice abound in the fields. The locusts descend. The cattle devour. The sparrows bring disaster upon the cultivator. The remainder that is on the threshing floor is at an end, it falls to the thieves. The value of the hired cattle is lost. And now the scribe lands on the river bank and is about to register the harvest tax. The janitors carry staves and the Nubians rods of palm, and they say "Hand over the corn" though there is none. The cultivator is beaten all over, he is bound and thrown into the well, soused and dipped head downward. His wife has been bound in his presence, his children are in fetters. His neighbours abandon them and are fled. So their corn flies away. But the scribe is ahead of everyone. He who works in writing is not taxed, he has no dues to pay. Mark it well.'
"The scribe, he directeth every work that is in this land."
Date: 2003-02-24 05:11 pm (UTC)-mjj
Re: "The scribe, he directeth every work that is in this land."
Date: 2003-02-24 05:21 pm (UTC)The sort of things that a growing girl really enjoyed thumping out.
Re: "The scribe, he directeth every work that is in this land."
Date: 2003-02-24 06:20 pm (UTC)My god. Natsukashii in spades.
-mjj
Re: "The scribe, he directeth every work that is in this land."
Date: 2003-02-25 01:31 am (UTC)