Here we have a an original copy of Goethe’s Faust translated by James Bayard Taylor. The date is 1890. Whilst it does not have the intrigue attached to the previous offering, I think it has a charm all of it’s own. And something was hiding within – A trunk call ticket from…well I have no idea, but it must have been many decades ago. There are two woolen book marks sealed into the spine. I have posted both the pages which were marked with said bookmarks when it first came into my possession. Mr Bayard Taylor (whom I keep referring to as ‘Barnyard Taylor’ in my mind, which I’m sure he’d be more than a little miffed about), was also a poet, and so I have also posted an example by him below the photographs.
Above is the first bookmarked page
And here is the second.
Elephants often used to call their families back then. These days they are too busy playing on their X-boxes to be bothered.
Storm Song – James Bayard Taylor
The clouds are scudding across the moon;
A misty light is on the sea;
The wind in the shrouds has a wintry tune,
And the foam is flying free.
Brothers, a night of terror and gloom
Speaks in the cloud and gathering roar;
Thank God, He has given us broad sea-room,
A thousand miles from shore.
Down with the hatches on those who sleep!
The wild and whistling deck have we;
Good watch, my brothers, to-night we’ll keep,
While the tempest is on the sea!
Though the rigging shriek in his terrible grip,
And the naked spars be snapped away,
Lashed to the helm, we’ll drive our ship
In the teeth of the whelming spray!
Hark! how the surges o’erleap the deck!
Hark! how the pitiless tempest raves!
Ah, daylight will look upon many a wreck
Drifting over the desert waves.
Yet, courage, brothers! we trust the wave,
With God above us, our guiding chart.
So, whether to harbor or ocean-grave,
Be it still with a cheery heart!
Esme's Cloud 
What’s it smell like? The book not the Barnyard 😉
Nice selection from Taylor. I wonder if it was written in anticipation, in the midst or in remembrance of a storm?
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“What’s it smell like?” – children’s tears after being locked in a musty barn (yard outside of course) for four hours without any video games.
I wonder if the storm was of a weatherly manner, one of his own temperament (or that of his wife’s perhaps), or in his pants. If he ever pops over to the cloud I shall enquire upon the matter and let you know 😉
Thanks for stopping by masodo.
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I missed this. What could I have been doing? Nothing happened on the 22nd that I can recall. Well, I’m glad I found it
The President and Founder
The Internet Defense League! Do you get uniforms?
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And so am I too! I thought perhaps you did not care for Faust or barnyards. Anyway it’s nice to pop back and find items missed or never previously found. I do that with The Institute sometimes you know, pop in randomly to see where I’ll end up. You never know where you’ll land with that kind of malarkey.
Less uniforms than costumes. A cape and ruff is mandatory. Meetings are every other Friday in the tree house at the back of the dump near Mrs O Malley’s house.
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Not care for Faust? If not for him I would not have the pleasure, the supreme joy really, of referring to things as ‘Faustian’. You understand that, right? Because Faustian is saying things are Faust like, the word you see is ‘Faust’ with an ‘ian’ on the end of it meaning: like Faust, you know the guy from that story.
The President and Founder
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Ohhhhhh. I never got that. There’s a chippy down the road here called ‘Faust’s Fat Fries’ and I always assumed it meant something was like a big fried potato. Suddenly, it all makes sense.
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Careful,’Big fried potato’ is the kind of insult that could break a man.
The President and Founder
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Hahahahaha…….boy, I haven’t had such a tic problem in some time.
I’ll bear that in mind though, heinous insults are always worth squirrelling away in case of emergencies I find.
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