The Poem-Book of the Gael by Various
The Poem-Book of the Gael by Various
y own King, King of the pure heavens,
without pride, without contention,
who didst create the folded[11] world,
my King ever-living, ever victorious.
King above the elements, surpassing the sun,
King above the ocean depths,
King in the South and North, in the West and East,
with whom no contention can be made.
King of the Mysteries, who wast and art,
before the elements, before the ages,
King yet eternal, comely His aspect,
King without beginning, without end.
King who created lustrous heaven,
who is not arrogant, not overweening,
and the earth, with its multitudinous delights,
strong, powerful, stable.
King who didst make the noble brightness,
and the darkness, with its gloom;
the one, the perfect day,
the other, the very perfect night.
King who fashioned the vast deeps
out of the primary stuff of the elements,
who ...
the wondrous formless mass.
King who formed out of it each element,
who confirmed them without restriction, a lovely mystery,
both tempestuous and serene,
both animate and inanimate.
King who hewed, gloriously, with energy,
out of the very shapely primal stuff,
the heavy, round earth,
with foundations, ... length and breadth.[12]
King who shaped within no narrow limits
in the circle of the firmament
the globe, fashioned
like a goodly apple, truly round.
King who formed after that with fixity
the fresh masses about the earth;
the very smooth currents above the world
of the chill watery air.
King who didst sift the cold excellent water
on the earth-mass of the noble cliffs
into rills, with the reservoirs[13] of the streams,
according to their measures, with moderation.
Creation of the winds with their colours
King who ordained the eight winds
advancing without uncertainty, full of beauty,
the four prime winds He holds back,
the four fierce under-winds.
There are four other under-winds,
as learned authors say,
this should be the number, without any error,
of the winds, twelve winds.
King who fashioned the colours of the winds,
who fixed them in safe courses,
after their manner, in well-ordered disposition,
with the varieties of each manifold hue.
The white, the clear purple,
the blue, the very strong green,
the yellow, the red, sure the knowledge,
in their gentle meetings wrath did not seize them.
The black, the grey, the speckled,
the dark and the deep brown,
the dun, darksome hues,
they are not light, easily controlled.
King who ordained them over every void,
the eight wild under-winds;
who laid down without defect
the bounds of the four prime winds.
From the East, the smiling purple,
from the South, the pure white, wondrous,
from the North, the black blustering moaning wind,
from the West, the babbling dun breeze.
The red, and the yellow along with it,
both white and purple;
the green, the blue, it is brave,
both dun and the pure white.
The grey, the dark brown, hateful their harshness,
both dun and deep black;
the dark, the speckled easterly wind
both black and purple.
Rightly ordered their form,
their disposition was ordained;
with wise adjustments,[14] openly,
according to their position and their fixed places.
The twelve winds,
Easterly and Westerly, Northerly and Southerly,
the King who adjusted them, He holds them back,
He fettered them with seven curbs.
King who bestowed them according to their posts,
around the world with many adjustments,
each two winds of them about a separate curb,
and one curb for the whole of them.
King who arranged them in habitual harmony,
according to their ways, without over-passing their limits;
at one time, peaceful was the space,
at another time, tempestuous.
Measurements of the Universe
King who didst make clear the measure of the slope[15]
from the earth to the firmament,
estimating it, clear the amount,
along with the thickness of the earth-mass.
He set the course of the seven Stars[16]
from the firmament to the earth,
Saturn, Jupiter, Mercury, Mars,
Sol, Venus, the very great moon.
King who numbered, kingly the space,
from the earth to the moon;
twenty-six miles with a hundred miles,
they measure them in full amount.
This is that cold air
circulating in its aerial series(?)
which is called ... with certainty
the pleasant, delightful heaven.
The distance from the moon to the sun
King who measured clearly, with absolute certainty,
two hundred miles, great the sway,
with twelve and forty miles.
This is that upper ethereal region,
without breeze, without greatly moving air,[17]
which is called, without incoherence,
the heaven of the wondrous ether.
Three times as much, the difference is not clear(?)
between the firmament and the sun,
He has given to calculators;[18]
my King star-mighty! most true is this!
This is the perfect Olympus,
motionless, immovable,
(according to the opinion of the ancient sages)
which is called the Third Holy Heaven.
Twelve miles, bright boundary,
with ten times five hundred miles,
splendid the star-run course, separately
from the firmament to the earth.
The measure of the space
from the earth to the firmament,
it is the measure of the difference
from the firmament to heaven.
Twenty-four miles
with thirty hundred miles
is the distance to heaven,
besides the firmament.
The measure of the whole space
from the earth to the Kingly abode,
is equal to that from the rigid earth
down to the depths of hell.
King of each Sovereign lord, vehement, ardent,
who of His own force set going the firmament
as it seemed secure to Him over every space,
He shaped them from the formless mass.
The poem goes on to speak of the division of the universe into five zones, a torrid, two temperate, and two frigid zones, and of the earth revolving in the centre of the universe, with the firmament about it, "like a shell encircling an egg." The passage of the sun through the constellations is then described, each of the twelve divisions through which it passes being provided with six windows, with close-fitting shutters, and strong coverings, which open to shed light by day. The constellations are then named, and the first section of the poem ends as follows:-
For each day five items of knowledge
are required of every intelligent person,
from every one, without appearance of censure,[19]
who is in ecclesiastical orders.
The day of the solar month, the age of the moon,
the sea-tide, without error,
the day of the week, the festivals of the perfect saints,
after just clearness, with their variations.
FOOTNOTES: [11] Whitley Stokes gives "lawful."
[12] Comp. the parallel passage in Senchus mòr, Ancient Laws of Ireland, vol. i. intro. p. 26.
[13] This is Dr. Whitley Stokes' reading. Dr. R. Thurneysen reads "sextarii."
[14] It is not clear what the word glés, gléssib, which occurs frequently in the following passage, means. In mod. Irish, gléas, in one meaning, is a means or instrument for doing a thing. The verb gléasaim="to harness." It seems to have some such meaning here. The winds were apparently harnessed, curbed, or fettered two and two, the whole being held together in one fetter. In another sense gléas means "harmony."
[15] Or "track."
[16] i.e. the Planets.
[17] Or "impure air"?
[18] Cf. the parallel passage in the Senchus mòr astronomical tract, Anc. Laws of Ireland, vol. i., Introduction, p. 28.
[19] Perhaps "boasting."
* * *
Le Tour du Monde; d'Alexandrette au coude de l'Euphrate by Various
It was a grand success. Every one said so; and moreover, every one who witnessed the experiment predicted that the Mermaid would revolutionize naval warfare as completely as did the world-famous Monitor. Professor Rivers, who had devoted the best years of his life to perfecting his wonderful invention, struggling bravely on through innumerable disappointments and failures, undaunted by the sneers of those who scoffed, or the significant pity of his friends, was so overcome by his signal triumph that he fled from the congratulations of those who sought to do him honour, leaving to his young assistants the responsibility of restoring the marvellous craft to her berth in the great ship-house that had witnessed her construction. These assistants were two lads, eighteen and nineteen years of age, who were not only the Professor's most promising pupils, but his firm friends and ardent admirers. The younger, Carlos West Moranza, was the only son of a Cuban sugar-planter, and an American mother who had died while he was still too young to remember her. From earliest childhood he had exhibited so great a taste for machinery that, when he was sixteen, his father had sent him to the United States to be educated as a mechanical engineer in one of the best technical schools of that country. There his dearest chum was his class-mate, Carl Baldwin, son of the famous American shipbuilder, John Baldwin, and heir to the latter's vast fortune. The elder Baldwin had founded the school in which his own son was now being educated, and placed at its head his life-long friend, Professor Alpheus Rivers, who, upon his patron's death, had also become Carl's sole guardian. In appearance and disposition young Baldwin was the exact opposite of Carlos Moranza, and it was this as well as the similarity of their names that had first attracted the lads to each other. While the young Cuban was a handsome fellow, slight of figure, with a clear olive complexion, impulsive and rash almost to recklessness, the other was a typical Anglo-Saxon American, big, fair, and blue-eyed, rugged in feature, and slow to act, but clinging with bulldog tenacity to any idea or plan that met with his favour. He invariably addressed his chum as "West," while the latter generally called him "Carol."
Young Folks Treasury, Volume 2 (of 12) by Various
Embracing a Flash-Light Sketch of the Holocaust, Detailed Narratives by Participants in the Horror, Heroic Work of Rescuers, Reports of the Building Experts as to the Responsibility for the Wholesale Slaughter of Women and Children, Memorable Fires of the Past, etc., etc.
Young Folks Treasury, Volume 3 (of 12) by Various
For seventeen years, I was the pride of the Carlisle family, the perfect daughter destined to inherit an empire. But that life ended the moment a DNA report slid across my father’s mahogany desk. The paper proved I was a stranger. Vanessa, the girl sobbing in the corner, was the real biological daughter they had been searching for. "You need to leave. Tonight. Before the press gets wind of this. Before the stock prices dip." My father’s voice was as cold as flint. My mother wouldn't even look at me, staring out the window at the gardens as if I were already a ghost. Just like that, I was erased. I left behind the Birkin bags and the diamonds, throwing my Centurion Card into a crystal bowl with a clatter that echoed like a gunshot. I walked out into the cold night and climbed into a rusted Ford Taurus driven by a man I had never met—my biological father. I went from a mansion to a fourth-floor walk-up in Queens that smelled of laundry detergent and struggle. My new siblings looked at me with a mix of fear and disgust, waiting for the "fallen princess" to break. They expected me to beg for my old life back, to crumble without the luxury I’d known since birth. But they didn't know the truth. I had spent years training in a shark tank, honing survival skills they couldn't imagine. While Richard Carlisle froze my trust funds to starve me out, my net worth was climbing by millions on an encrypted trading app. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves. They didn't realize they were just letting me off my leash. As the Carlisles prepared to debut Vanessa at the Manhattan Arts Gala, I was already making my move. "Get dressed. We're going to a party."
Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.
Luna has tried her best to make her forced marriage to Xen work for the sake of their child. But with Riley and Sophia- Xen's ex-girlfriend and her son in the picture. She fights a losing battle. Ollie, Xen's son is neglected by his father for a very long time and he is also suffering from a mysterious sickness that's draining his life force. When his last wish to have his dad come to his 5th birthday party is dashed by his failure to show up, Ollie dies in an accident after seeing his father celebrate Riley's birthday with Sophia and it's displayed on the big advertising boards that fill the city. Ollie dies and Luna follows after, unable to bear the grief, dying in her mate's hands cursing him and begging for a second chance to save her son. Luna gets the opportunity and is woken up in the past, exactly one year to the day Sophia and Riley show up. But this time around, Luna is willing to get rid of everyone and anyone even her mate if he steps in her way to save her son.
Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.
Isabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.
For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.
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