Duke Ellington's Birthday Anniversary

Wherefore art thou, princess?
Duke Ellington
Jazz Legend
(29 April 1899 - 24 May 1974)
The MP3 below expired on 06-20-2012.
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Oscar Peterson, piano (1952)
- Prelude to a Kiss (Ellington)

April Flowers & Fruit

Home Garden Beauties, 29 April 2012

The New Blogger Format is Poorly Designed

The new Blogger format is an improvement alright. It is not a better design, however, than the replaced version. Instead of form follows motion, it is the other way around in this iteration. If the user doesn't adapt to the Blogger programmer's whim, too bad.

Google forgets the Blogger app is just the back-office of the user's blog. The old Blogger version got the job done, even if it were out of style with Google. Frankly, I could care less about the new look. It's busy and fragmented. All the essential blogging tools are now scattered or partitioned off from the main app.

Score: 2 (5 is best).

Jumpin' at the Woodside

Filoli Gardens, Woodside, CA
21 April 2012

Inna Poroshina, piano, (1997)
Spring Song (Dvořák)

Click here to view this L'Envoi YouTube.

Miklós Rózsa's Birthday Anniversary

Miklós Rózsa
Hungarian-born film scores composer
(18 April 1907 - 27 July 1995)
The MP3 below expired on 04-29 -2012.
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Frank Chacksfield and His Orchestra (1962)
- Parade of the Charioteers from "Ben-Hur" (Rózsa)

Pilate's Monolgue

Pilate's Monolgue
[This monologue of Pilate to Herod takes place a few days after the resurrection at the home of Pontius Pilate. Pilate and Herod are standing on the east porch of the Governor's mansion in Jerusalem, looking toward the Mount of Olives. The time is just at sunset.]

Oh! Herod, couldst thou find no fault in Him—
The Man of Galilee? Clearly He
Belonged within thy jurisdiction. Didst
Thou fear to do thy duty? Still I blame
Thee not—the mob was clamorous for blood!
I questioned Him, but like a lamb before
His shearers He was dumb and answered me
No word. Was not His silence proof of guilt?
But even then I offered to release
Him, till the rabble shouted, "Crucify
This Man: set free Barabbas, if thou wilt,
But we demand the life of Jesus whom
They call the Christ." Oh! dost thou think His blood
Can be upon my head? I washed my hands
Before the multitude and told them I
Was innocent of any crime toward Him.
I scourged Him, it is true, but that was all.
They stripped Him and bedecked Him with a robe
Of scarlet cloth, and placed a crown of thorns
Upon His head, and then they mocked and jeered
And spat upon Him, hailing Him as King!
I can not think that this was right, but still
They say He blasphemed and deserved to die.
But what is blasphemy?

Oh, Herod, I can never rid my dreams of Jesus' look.
He turned His eyes upon me as I dipped
My fingers in the bowl—a glance that seemed
More fraught with love and pity than with hate.
He blessed the people as He hung upon
The cross in agony of pain, and prayed
His God to pardon them because they knew
Not what they did. Thou canst not, Herod, think
This Nazarene was more than man? It can't
Be possible that He whom Pilate scourged
Was Christ indeed! But could a man forgive
His murderers? They say the tomb is burst
And that His body is no longer there!
I might endure His curse. My pen has stabbed
To death a thousand men and never felt
Compunction for the deed, because I knew
They hated me. But now the voice that haunts
My sleep asks only blessings on my head.
They say He wept for men because of sin,
And yet no guile was found in Him. If I
Could close my eyes and see that face no more
I might find peace again.

Three nights I have not slept.
I hear that Judas hanged himself!
And now no guard that watched before
The sepulchre can anywhere be found.
Had I but set the Galilean free!
But did he not insult my majesty?
He must have known I ruled in Cæsar's stead.
What if my wife was troubled in a dream
And suffered many things on His account?
A Roman governor must be a man!
They say the temple's veil was rent in twain—
The sky was darkened and the sun was hid.
He said I had no power to crucify
Except that it be given from above.
He did not know the strength of Pilate's arm!
'Tis said He cried, "My God, my God, why hast
Thou now forsaken me?" The earth did quake,
The tombs were cracked, and then the shrouded dead
Stalked ghost-like through the fields and open streets!
Look! Look! What is yon robe of shining white?
Behold the Man—the Man of Galilee!
With outstretched arms He stands on Olivet,
The shadows purpling o'er Gethsemane.
I hear Him cry in agony of soul,
"How often would I, O Jerusalem,
Have gathered unto Me thy children as
A hen her brood beneath her wing, but ye
Would not come." Herod, canst thou hear His voice?
It is impossible! It can not be!
He must not know that I am Pilate! Still
He calls my name! I can not, dare not go!
What would the people think? I will
Be free. There is no blood upon my hands.
See, I wash them clean and am myself
Again. Oh! Now the spell is gone. Though not
The king, I am governor of the Jews!

-- Cotton Noe (1916)

Believeth in Me

I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me,
though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth
and believeth in me shall never die.
John 11:25-26 KJV

Resurrection Heralded

Easter had come; the season of light and refreshment for universal nature! Winter, as he departed, had shrouded himself in a veil of gloomy mist, and spring followed close after fleeing abysmal clouds. She had sent forth the blasts, her messengers, to arouse the earth from its slumber; they roared above meadow and plain, waved their wings around the mighty summits of the mountain ranges, and stirred the sea to its depths. There was a savage conflict and turmoil in the air, whence issued, nevertheless, a note as of victory. The blasts were those of spring, and were instinct with life,--they heralded a resurrection.

E. Werner, 1901

Sheep and Lambs

Sheep and Lambs
Katharine Tynan Hinkson (1861 - 1931)

All in the April evening
April airs were abroad;
The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road.

The sheep with their little lambs
Passed me by on the road;
All in the April evening
I thought on the Lamb of God.

The lambs were weary and crying
With a weak, human cry.
I thought on the Lamb of God
Going meekly to die.

Up in the blue, blue mountains
Dewy pastures are sweet;
Rest for the little bodies,
Rest for the little feet.

But for the Lamb of God,
Up on the hill-top green,
Only a cross of shame
Two stark crosses between.

All in the April evening,
April airs were abroad;
I saw the sheep with their lambs,
And thought on the Lamb of God.

When April Comes

Seeing God's hand and grace in His providing the bounty and beauty for this small home is never a fool's notion.

More Home Garden Flower Collage, 29 March 2012

When April Comes (1913)
Virna Sheard

When April comes with softly shining eyes,
And daffodils bound in her wind-blown hair,
Oh, she will coax all clouds from out the skies,
And every day will bring some sweet surprise,—
The swallows will come swinging through the air
When April comes!

When April comes with tender smile and tear,
Dear dandelions will gild the common ways,
And at the break of morning we will hear
The piping of the robins crystal clear—
While bobolinks will whistle through the days,
When April comes!

When April comes, the world so wise and old,
Will half forget that it is worn and grey;
Winter will seem but as a tale long told—
Its bitter winds with all its frost and cold
Will be the by-gone things of yesterday,
When April comes!

Drunk Up the Wine of God's Fierce Wrath

Palm Sunday 2012

Poem: His Saviour's Words Going to the Cross
Author: Robert Herrick (1591-1674)

Have, have ye no regard, all ye
Who pass this way, to pity Me,
Who am a man of misery!

A man both bruis'd, and broke, and one
Who suffers not here for Mine own,
But for My friends' transgression!

Ah! Sion's daughters, do not fear
The cross, the cords, the nails, the spear,
The myrrh, the gall, the vinegar;

For Christ, your loving Saviour, hath
Drunk up the wine of God's fierce wrath;
Only there's left a little froth,

Less for to taste than for to show
What bitter cups had been your due,
Had He not drank them up for you.