Let the bright Seraphim in burning row,
in burning, burning row,
their loud, uplifted angel trumpets blow,
their loud, uplifted angel trumpets blow,
their loud, their loud, uplifted angel trumpets blow
Let the Cherubic host, in tuneful choirs,
touch their immortal harps with golden wires,
to thank all of you who voted Angels 234 in the top 500 British political blogs.
And my father whose working class conservatism, otherwise known as common sense, is often echoed here.
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7 comments:
Congrats, HG, it is delightful that your erudite and uncompromising postings command a good following
Congratulations. Shouldn't you be on Blogpower's list?
I would have voted had I noticed a poll..:-(
In fact, you have only one true rival for my vote and that is Stanislav the young Pole. Although he doesn't have a blog.
I would have, too,L.
Should have got organized like Mutley (who's there too, but then dogs are very popular on all blogs.)
Argh (how slow can I be ?)
*beats palm against forehead*
Well may Angels blow their own trumpets !
The words are a bit quiet without the music, though I am fond of the repeated burning and loud. Curious how words set to music in English were so much less luscious (and ambivalent) than those in Italian song of the same century - Marino for Monteverdi, Nahum Tate for Purcell, no contest really.
I know nothing of Tate but as the usual source notes,
'Marino gave himself up to literary studies, love affairs and a life of pleasure so unbridled that he was arrested at least twice.'
Now that should help with poetic expressive form.
Anyway, I expect Handel is roaring through your brain, rather hard to stop him sometimes.
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