Assigned reading (1+ par [] plus 122 notes) [secondary] [Leeds] [McH]
[though humble the bounquet 'tis a leaman's farewell] sheetmusic
[♬ Maxwelton... annie lawrie]
[♬ Havvah-ban-Annah]
"to the strains of The Secret of Her Birth" [jump to 1:45] [libretto] [wiki]
this is a possibly unique case where two FW characters-- Father Browne and Philly Thurnston-- are listening to a real song described with its real name
FDV: "The next evening but one the cad's wife spoke of the matter after sadality meeting to the Reverned director, a fresh complexioned clergyman and it was he in all human probability who was overheard to repeat the words to a layteacher of natural science during a priestly flutter on the race course of baldoyle"
4DV: "The cad's wife (as the aftertale has it) spoke of the matter the next
night but one after sodality meeting to the reverend, the director, a
freshcomplexioned clergyman, yet it was he in all human probability who,
when seized of the facts, was overheard by accident-- if indeed, it was
an accident-- repeating a slightly different version of the words to a
layteacher of organic chemistry in the middle forties"
mysteries:
[0:00-1:43]
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and on this celebrating occasion of the happy escape,
ReplyDeletefor a crowning of pot valiance,
his regional platter, benjamin of _bouillis_,
with a spolish olive to middlepoint its zaynith,
was marrying itself (porkograso!) very deluxiously
with a bottle of Phenice-Bruerie '98,
followed for second nuptials by a Piessporter, _Grand Cru_,
of both of which cherished tablelights
(though humble the bounquet 'tis a leaman's farewell)
he obdurately sniffed the cobwebcrusted corks.
Our cad's bit of strife (knee Bareniece Maxwelton)
with a quick ear for spittoons (as the aftertale hath it)
glaned up as usual with dumbestic husbandry
(no persicks and armelians for thee, Pomeranzia!)
but, slipping the clav in her claw,
broke of the matter among a hundred and eleven others in her usual curtsey
(how faint these first vhespers womanly are,
a secret pispigliando, amad the lavurdy den of their manfolken!)
the next night nudge one as was Hegesippus over o hup a' chee,
her eys dry and small and speech thicklish
because he appeared a funny colour
like he couldn't stood they old hens no longer,
to her particular reverend, the director,
whom she had been meaning in her mind primarily to speak with
(hosch, intra! jist a timblespoon!),
trusting, between cuppled lips and annie laurie promises
(mighshe never have Esnekerry pudden
come Annanov for her pecklapitschens!),
that the gossiple so delivered in his epistolear,
buried teatoastally in their Irish stew,
would slip no further than his jesuit's cloth,
yet (in vinars venitas! volatiles valetotum!)
it was this overspoiled priest, Mr Browne, disguised as a vicentian,
who, when seized of the facts, was overheard,
in his secondary personality as a Nolan,
and undereared, poul soul, by accident –
if, that is, the incident was an accident
for here the ruah of Ecclectiastes of Hippo
outpuffs the writress of Havvah-ban-Annah –
to pianissime a slightly varied version of Crookedrib's confidentials
(what Mère Aloyse said but for Jesuphine's sake!),
hands between hahands, in fealty sworn
(my bravor best! my fraur!),
and, to the strains of _The Secret of Her Birth_,
hushly pierce the rubiend aurellam of one Philly Thurnston,
a layteacher of rural science and orthophonethics
of a nearstout figure and about the middle of his forties,