Sunday, 31 March 2013



by Joyce Kilmer
The air is like a butterfly
With frail blue wings.
The happy earth looks at the sky
And sings.

Friday, 29 March 2013


Good Friday cross buns, or hot cross buns, are traditionally served on Good Friday - the Friday before Easter. Good Friday is celebrated as the day of Jesus’ crucifixion, and the buns are marked with the symbol of the cross as a reminder of His sacrifice.

Here you can read a nice article about Good Friday cross buns.  

Monday, 25 March 2013


Ballads are short, anonymous  narrative  poems or songs which have been preserved and elaborated by oral transmission  over the centuries;  many have been passed from one country to another  with suitable  modifications  to local needs. This happened to many Irish and  Scottish  ballads which sprang up  in modified  forms in America and Australia.
Because of their highly  mutable  oral form,  it is almost impossible  to date  most  ballads.  After Caxton  first set up the printing press in 1477, ballads spread rapidly.
They were an essentially popular tradition of the unschooled and illiterate, which recalled  the early oral verse  narratives of the Celts and the Anglo-Saxons.
Most ballads were set to music, as they were meant to be sung  rather than read.  Thus ballads  are usually in simple quatrains (four-line stanzas) with a repeated  refrain (the repetition of one or more lines).  They are simple in form, plot  and language,  so as to make them easier to remember. 

Ballads can be classified in many different categories, from  border ballads  about the rivalry between the English and the Scottish people, to ballads of outlaws celebrating  the lives of outlaws or criminals such as  the cycle of  Robin Hood,  to  ballads of  magic  recounting  stories about fairies,  witches and  ghosts, to ballads  of love and domestic tragedy, to town  ballads which served as a polemical commentary  on difficult  urban conditions.
Here you can find useful material for revision.

Lord Randal  is a traditional  Scottish ballad which  tells "with a certain malicious  humour"  the sad tale of a noble called Lord Randal. It probably derives  from  the late  Middle Ages.

Geordie is a famous English ballad  which presents a rather complex narrative: the story-teller,  or  narrator, meets a young  woman who is lamenting the fate of her lover. 
Its  date of composition is unknown, it may be dated to the late  Middle Ages; it is still widely known today and often sung in traditional as well as modernized versions.

Here  you can download a worksheet about the medieval ballad Geordie.  

Thursday, 21 March 2013


Image result for spring flowers

 Lines Written in Early Spring 
by William Wordsworth (1798)

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure, 
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

Related image

Spring Quiet  by Christina Rossetti (1847)

Gone were but the Winter,
Come were but the Spring,
I would go to a covert
Where the birds sing.

Where in the whitethom
Singeth a thrush,
And a robin sings
In the holly-bush.

Full of fresh scents
Are the budding boughs
Arching high over
A cool green house:

Full of sweet scents,
And whispering air
Which sayeth softly:
“We spread no snare;

“Here dwell in safety,
Here dwell alone,
With a clear stream
And a mossy stone.

“Here the sun shineth
Most shadily;
Here is heard an echo
Of the far sea,
Though far off it be.”

A Light exists in Spring  by Emily Dickinson