I've been a busy Bee recording sound versions of some classic poems this weekend Heres one of them,but there are several more over at my sound archive website...So I hope some of you may find time to pay us a visit...Heres a poem I realy love that Raleigh supposedly wrote to his only surviving son during his many years of incarceration in the Tower of London...Heres the link to the page with the soundfile just and paste it into your browser and you'll be there in a trice..

http://groups.msn.com/acousticmusiciansandpoetssoundarchive/poetrysounds.msnw?action=get_message&mview=1&ID_Message=130

Regards..

Jim Clark

All rights are reserved on this sound recording/copyright/patent Jim Clark 2002

To His Son
by Sir Walter Raleigh

Three things there be that prosper up apace
And flourish whilst they grow asunder far;
But on a day, they meet all in one place,
And when they meet they one another mar:
And they be these -the wood, the weed, the wag.
The wood is that which makes the gallows tree;
The weed is that which strings the hangman's bag;
The wag, my pretty knave, betokeneth thee.
Mark well, dear boy, whilst these assemble not,
Green springs the tree, hemp grows, the wag is wild;
But when they meet, it makes the timber rot,
It frets the halter, and it chokes the child.
Then bless thee, and beware, and let us pray
We part not with thee at this meeting day.