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1920's style architechure close by the Victorian School Buildings

Mrs Paul's Residence at 87 Belsize Pk Gdns also my boarding house for a good few terms

The Original boarding dept at 31 Glenloch Road,
a property with what seemed a vast dark cellar area, some parts of which were decidedly spooky

Above Pictures from John O'Sullivan

One of Miss Fehling's favourite poems was "Adlestrop" by Edward Thomas
Conveys a peaceful moment on a summer's day, which I am still very fond of.


Yes, I remember Adlestrop --
The name, because one afternoon
Of heat the express-train drew up there
Unwontedly. It was late June.

The steam hissed. Someone cleared his throat.
No one left and no one came
On the bare platform. What I saw
Was Adlestrop -- only the name

And willows, willow-herb, and grass,
And meadowsweet, and haycocks dry,
No whit less still and lonely fair
Than the high cloudlets in the sky.

And for that minute a blackbird sang
Close by, and round him, mistier,
Farther and farther, all the birds
Of Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire.

	-- Edward Thomas

Poems/Fables that I remember with a little less fondness
are the likes of "Le Lion Devenue Vieux" by Jean de LA FONTAINE (1621-1695)
Le Lion devenu vieux

Le Lion, terreur des forêts,
Chargé d'ans et pleurant son antique prouesse,
Fut enfin attaqué par ses propres sujets,
Devenus forts par sa faiblesse.
Le Cheval s'approchant lui donne un coup de pied ;
Le Loup un coup de dent, le Boeuf un coup de corne.
Le malheureux Lion, languissant, triste, et morne,
Peut a peine rugir, par l'âge estropié.
Il attend son destin, sans faire aucunes plaintes ;
Quand voyant l'Ane même à son antre accourir :
"Ah ! c'est trop, lui dit-il ; je voulais bien mourir ;
Mais c'est mourir deux fois que souffrir tes atteintes. "

The following rather bleak poem, was a favorite of our German Teacher
Miss McGonnigal who was in fact Scottish, She can be heard in the audio section
on this website reciting it with full Doric Accent.

The Twa Corbies


AS I was walking all alane

I heard twa corbies making a mane:

The tane unto the tither did say,

'Whar sall we gang and dine the day?'


'—In behint yon auld fail dyke

I wot there lies a new-slain knight;

And naebody kens that he lies there

But his hawk, his hound, and his lady fair.


'His hound is to the hunting gane,

His hawk to fetch the wild-fowl hame,

His lady 's ta'en anither mate,

So we may mak our dinner sweet.


'Ye'll sit on his white hause-bane,

And I'll pike oot his bonny blue e'en:

Wi' ae lock o' his gowden hair

We'll theek our nest when it grows bare.


'Mony a one for him maks mane,

But nane sall ken whar he is gane:

O'er his white banes, when they are bare,

The wind sall blaw for evermair.'


Anonymous. 17th Cent.




GLOSS:  corbies = ravens.  Fail = turf.  Hause = neck.  Theek = thatch.

If that was a rather bleak poem, then the one that follows, is desperately sad,
and yet Mrs Paul seemed to love reading it, I wonder if it had some special meaning in her own life?

Der Erlkönig - von Johann Wolfgang von Goethe


Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?

Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind;

Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,

Er faßt ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.


WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear?

The father it is, with his infant so dear;

He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm,

He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm.-


Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht? -

Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?

Den Erlenkönig mit Kron und Schweif? -

Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif. -


"My son, wherefore seek'st thou thy face thus to hide?"

"Look, father, the Erl-King is close by our side!

Dost see not the Erl-King, with crown and with train?"

"My son, 'tis the mist rising over the plain."-


"Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!

Gar schöne Spiele spiel ich mit dir;

Manch bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,

Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand."


"Oh, come, thou dear infant! oh come thou with me!

Full many a game I will play there with thee;

On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold,

My mother shall grace thee with garments of gold."-


Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,

Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht? -

Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind;

In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind. -


" My father, my father, and dost thou not hear

The words that the Erl-King now breathes in mine ear?"

"Be calm, dearest child, 'tis thy fancy deceives;

'Tis the sad wind that sighs through the withering leaves."-


"Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn?

Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön;

Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Reihn,

Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein."


" Wilt go, then, dear infant, wilt go with me there?

My daughters shall tend thee with sisterly care

My daughters by night their glad festival keep,

They'll dance thee, and rock thee, and sing thee to sleep."


Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort

Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort? -

Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau:

Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau. -


"My father, my father, and dost thou not see,

How the Erl-King his daughters has brought here for me?"

"My darling, my darling, I see it aright,

'Tis the aged grey willows deceiving thy sight."-


"Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;

Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt."

Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt faßt er mich an!

Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan! -


" I love thee, I'm charm'd by thy beauty,dear boy!

and if thou'rt unwilling, then force I'll employ."

My father, my father, he seizes me fast,

The  Erl-King now has hurt me at last." -


Dem Vater grausets, er reitet geschwind,

Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,

Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not;

In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.


The father now gallops, with terror half wild,

He grasps in his arms the poor shuddering child;

He reaches his courtyard with toil and with dread,--

The child in his arms finds he motionless, dead.-

Thanks to Craig Sams for providing this version of the poem

Anyone else care to add something to this section?
I am trying to recall something in french about all the things I would buy for my "oiseau" -
quelque choses Joli... quelque choses utile...."
Anyone know the poem?

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