Filmed on 16 August 2013; published on 16 August 2013; revised
- VIDEO BY ALICE
- SUMMARY BY ALICE
- Memories of My Grandmother Berry
- “The Brook,” A Poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Read by Alice B. Clagett, Soundtrack and Words
- Conclusion
Dear Ones,
In the video, I read the poem “The Brook” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson. A Summary follows the video …
VIDEO BY ALICE
SUMMARY OF THE VIDEO
Hello, Dear Ones, It’s Alice.
I am sitting here on a nice bench. [shows weeds growing by a narrow, fast-flowing river, and trees on the other bank] … I think this river here is called the Los Pinos River, in Colorado. You can hear a little bit of noise from the river, I hope.
Memories of Grandmother Berry
Before I came here, I went to the Library, and I got a copy of a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, which my grandmother used to read to me when I was tiny. And I was just reminded, while I was re-reading this poem, of her voice. And her voice sounded … no matter whether she was laughing … whenever she was talking, it sounded a little bit like tiny, tinkling bells. I never forgot it.
And so, I thought I would dedicate this reading to my Grandmother Berry (my mother’s mother), who passed away many long years ago … And lived a very happy life, and taught a lot of young children how to read poetry.
So this is a poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, called “The Brook.” You have to imagine, while I am reading it, that you have an English accent, ok? Here goes …
“The Brook”
A Poem by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (public domain)
Read by Alice B. Clagett
Soundtrack and Words
16 August 2013
“I come from haunts of coot and hern,
I make a sudden sally
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
“By thirty hills I hurry down,
Or slip between the ridges,
By twenty thorpes, a little town,
And half a hundred bridges.
“Till last by Philip’s farm I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
“I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
“With many a curve my banks I fret
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
“I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
“I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout,
And here and there a grayling,
“And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel
With many a silvery waterbreak
Above the golden gravel,
“And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.
“I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers;
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
“I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
“I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses;
I linger by my shingly bars;
I loiter round my cresses;
“And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river,
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on for ever.”
. . . . .
Conclusion
Well, that is it, Dear Ones. I am wishing your Soul a chance to go on forever, in joy and love and Light.
That is all I have for you today. Talk to you later.
In love, light and joy,
I Am of the Stars
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Except where otherwise noted, this work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License.
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poetry, The Brook, Alfred Lord Tennyson, nature, eternity, mortality, death, Soul evolution, blessings,
