Lachlan passed away in January 2010.  As a memorial, this site remains as he left it.
Therefore the information on this site may not be current or accurate and should not be relied upon.
For more information follow this link


(This Webpage Page in No Frames Mode)

Welcome to Lachlan Cranswick's Personal Homepage in Melbourne, Australia

Deep River, Ottawa Valley, Ontario, Canada and surrounds

More Wildflowers of Deep River - 7th August 2004

Lachlan's Homepage is at http://lachlan.bluehaze.com.au/

[Intro - CranClan] . . [Happening Things] . . [The Daresbury Laboratory Web Ring of Life] . . [NCS - Non-Competitive Scrabble] . . [Garden Gnomes of Daresbury Laboratory] . . [Nature and Local UK Things] . . [USA 2001 and LDEO Columbia University] . . [Historical Literature/Poetry] . . [Music] . . [Misc Things] . . [DL SRS Status] . . [Conference and Travel Things] . . [The Wonders of Team Building] . . [Other People's Homepages] . . [Crystallographic Internet Front] . . [While in Melbourne] . . [Semi Relevant Links]
[Back to Lachlan's Homepage] | [What's New]
[Deep River 2004] | [Deep River links] | [Wildflowers of Deep River, Eastern Ontario]

White Sweet Clover (Melilotus alba) Penny Cress (Thlaspi arvense) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale)
White Sweet Clover (Melilotus alba) Penny Cress (Thlaspi arvense) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale)
Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Cow Vetch; Blue Vetch; Bird Vetch (Vicia cracca) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale)
Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Cow Vetch; Blue Vetch; Bird Vetch (Vicia cracca) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale) Possibly a Hedge Mustard (Sisymbrium officinale)
Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Bittersweet Nightshade; Climbing Nightshade; Deadly Nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) (its toxin is not fatal)
Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Bittersweet Nightshade; Climbing Nightshade; Deadly Nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) (its toxin is not fatal)
Bittersweet Nightshade; Climbing Nightshade; Deadly Nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) (its toxin is not fatal) Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annus) Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annus) Horseweed; Canada Fleabane (Conyza canadensis; was called Erigeron canadensis)
Bittersweet Nightshade; Climbing Nightshade; Deadly Nightshade (Solanum dulcamara) (its toxin is not fatal) Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annus) Daisy Fleabane (Erigeron annus) Horseweed; Canada Fleabane (Conyza canadensis; was called Erigeron canadensis)
Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Possibly of the Buckwheat / Polygonum  family?
Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Possibly of the Buckwheat / Polygonum family?
Possibly of the Buckwheat / Polygonum  family? Possibly of the Buckwheat / Polygonum  family? Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.)
Possibly of the Buckwheat / Polygonum family? Possibly of the Buckwheat / Polygonum family? Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.)
A cinquefoil? Red Clover (Trifolium pratense)
A cinquefoil? Red Clover (Trifolium pratense)
Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)
Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)
Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina)
Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina)
Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)
Smaller Enchanter's Nightshade (Circaea alpina) Hemp Nettle (Galeopsis tetrahit L.) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) Shepherd's Purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris)


[Back to Lachlan's Homepage] | [What's New]
[Deep River 2004] | [Deep River links] | [Wildflowers of Deep River, Eastern Ontario]


Poetry Links and stuff

Auguries of Innocence
(William Blake - 1757-1827)

To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.

A Robin Red breast in a Cage
Puts all Heaven in a Rage.
A dove house fill'd with doves & Pigeons
Shudders Hell thro' all its regions.
A dog starv'd at his Master's Gate
Predicts the ruin of the State.
A Horse misus'd upon the Road
Calls to Heaven for Human blood.
Each outcry of the hunted Hare
A fibre from the Brain does tear.
A Skylark wounded in the wing,
A Cherubim does cease to sing.
The Game Cock clipp'd and arm'd for fight
Does the Rising Sun affright.
Every Wolf's & Lion's howl
Raises from Hell a Human Soul.
The wild deer, wand'ring here & there,
Keeps the Human Soul from Care.
The Lamb misus'd breeds public strife
And yet forgives the Butcher's Knife.
The Bat that flits at close of Eve
Has left the Brain that won't believe.
The Owl that calls upon the Night
Speaks the Unbeliever's fright.
He who shall hurt the little Wren
Shall never be belov'd by Men.
He who the Ox to wrath has mov'd
Shall never be by Woman lov'd.
The wanton Boy that kills the Fly
Shall feel the Spider's enmity.
He who torments the Chafer's sprite
Weaves a Bower in endless Night.
The Catterpillar on the Leaf
Repeats to thee thy Mother's grief.
Kill not the Moth nor Butterfly,
For the Last Judgement draweth nigh.
He who shall train the Horse to War
Shall never pass the Polar Bar.
The Beggar's Dog & Widow's Cat,
Feed them & thou wilt grow fat.
The Gnat that sings his Summer's song
Poison gets from Slander's tongue.
The poison of the Snake & Newt
Is the sweat of Envy's Foot.
The poison of the Honey Bee
Is the Artist's Jealousy.
The Prince's Robes & Beggars' Rags
Are Toadstools on the Miser's Bags.
A truth that's told with bad intent
Beats all the Lies you can invent.
It is right it should be so;
Man was made for Joy & Woe;
And when this we rightly know
Thro' the World we safely go.
Joy & Woe are woven fine,
A Clothing for the Soul divine;
Under every grief & pine
Runs a joy with silken twine.
The Babe is more than swadling Bands;
Throughout all these Human Lands
Tools were made, & born were hands,
Every Farmer Understands.
Every Tear from Every Eye
Becomes a Babe in Eternity.
This is caught by Females bright
And return'd to its own delight.
The Bleat, the Bark, Bellow & Roar
Are Waves that Beat on Heaven's Shore.
The Babe that weeps the Rod beneath
Writes Revenge in realms of death.
The Beggar's Rags, fluttering in Air,
Does to Rags the Heavens tear.
The Soldier arm'd with Sword & Gun,
Palsied strikes the Summer's Sun.
The poor Man's Farthing is worth more
Than all the Gold on Afric's Shore.
One Mite wrung from the Labrer's hands
Shall buy & sell the Miser's lands:
Or, if protected from on high,
Does that whole Nation sell & buy.
He who mocks the Infant's Faith
Shall be mock'd in Age & Death.
He who shall teach the Child to Doubt
The rotting Grave shall ne'er get out.
He who respects the Infant's faith
Triumph's over Hell & Death.
The Child's Toys & the Old Man's Reasons
Are the Fruits of the Two seasons.
The Questioner, who sits so sly,
Shall never know how to Reply.
He who replies to words of Doubt
Doth put the Light of Knowledge out.
The Strongest Poison ever known
Came from Caesar's Laurel Crown.
Nought can deform the Human Race
Like the Armour's iron brace.
When Gold & Gems adorn the Plow
To peaceful Arts shall Envy Bow.
A Riddle or the Cricket's Cry
Is to Doubt a fit Reply.
The Emmet's Inch & Eagle's Mile
Make Lame Philosophy to smile.
He who Doubts from what he sees
Will ne'er believe, do what you Please.
If the Sun & Moon should doubt
They'd immediately Go out.
To be in a Passion you Good may do,
But no Good if a Passion is in you.
The Whore & Gambler, by the State
Licenc'd, build that Nation's Fate.
The Harlot's cry from Street to Street
Shall weave Old England's winding Sheet.
The Winner's Shout, the Loser's Curse,
Dance before dead England's Hearse.
Every Night & every Morn
Some to Misery are Born.
Every Morn & every Night
Some are Born to sweet Delight.
Some ar Born to sweet Delight,
Some are born to Endless Night.
We are led to Believe a Lie
When we see not Thro' the Eye
Which was Born in a Night to Perish in a Night
When the Soul Slept in Beams of Light.
God Appears & God is Light
To those poor Souls who dwell in the Night,
But does a Human Form Display
To those who Dwell in Realms of day.


"September 1, 1939"
(WH Auden)

I sit in one of the dives
On Fifty-second Street
Uncertain and afraid
As the clever hopes expire
Of a low dishonest decade:
Waves of anger and fear
Circulate over the bright
And darkened lands of the earth,
Obsessing our private lives;
The unmentionable odour of death
Offends the September night.

Accurate scholarship can
Unearth the whole offence
From Luther until now
That has driven a culture mad,
Find what occurred at Linz,
What huge imago made
A psychopathic god:
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.

Exiled Thucydides knew
All that a speech can say
About Democracy,
And what dictators do,
The elderly rubbish they talk
To an apathetic grave;
Analysed all in his book,
The enlightenment driven away,
The habit-forming pain,
Mismanagement and grief:
We must suffer them all again.

Into this neutral air
Where blind skyscrapers use
Their full height to proclaim
The strength of Collective Man,
Each language pours its vain
Competitive excuse:
But who can live for long
In an euphoric dream;
Out of the mirror they stare,
Imperialism's face
And the international wrong.

Faces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.

The windiest militant trash
Important Persons shout
Is not so crude as our wish:
What mad Nijinsky wrote
About Diaghilev
Is true of the normal heart;
For the error bred in the bone
Of each woman and each man
Craves what it cannot have,
Not universal love
But to be loved alone.

From the conservative dark
Into the ethical life
The dense commuters come,
Repeating their morning vow;
"I will be true to the wife,
I'll concentrate more on my work,"
And helpless governors wake
To resume their compulsory game:
Who can release them now,
Who can reach the deaf,
Who can speak for the dumb?

All I have is a voice
To undo the folded lie,
The romantic lie in the brain
Of the sensual man-in-the-street
And the lie of Authority
Whose buildings grope the sky:
There is no such thing as the State
And no one exists alone;
Hunger allows no choice
To the citizen or the police;
We must love one another or die.

Defenceless under the night
Our world in stupor lies;
Yet, dotted everywhere,
Ironic points of light
Flash out wherever the Just
Exchange their messages:
May I, composed like them
Of Eros and of dust,
Beleaguered by the same
Negation and despair,
Show an affirming flame.


"It's no use raising a shout."
(WH Auden)

It's no use raising a shout.
No, Honey, you can cut that right out.
I don't want any more hugs;
Make me some fresh tea, fetch me some rugs.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?

It wasn't always like this?
Perhaps it wasn't, but it is.
Put the car away; when life fails,
What's the good of going to Wales?
Here am I, here are you;
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?

A long time ago I told my mother
I was leaving home to find another:
I never answered her letter
But I never found a better.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?

In my spine there was a base;
And I knew the general's face:
But they've severed all the wires,
And I can't tell what the general desires.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?

In my veins there is a wish,
And a memory of fish:
When I lie crying on the floor,
It says, "You've often done this before."
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?

A bird used to visit this shore:
It isn't going to come any more.
I've come a very long way to prove
No land, no water, and no love.
Here am I, here are you:
But what does it mean? What are we going to do?


"Calmly We Walk Through This April's Day"
(Delmore Schwartz (1913-1966))

Calmly we walk through this April's day,
Metropolitan poetry here and there,
In the park sit pauper and rentier,
The screaming children, the motor-car
Fugitive about us, running away,
Between the worker and the millionaire
Number provides all distances,
It is Nineteen Thirty-Seven now,
Many great dears are taken away,
What will become of you and me
(This is the school in which we learn...)
Besides the photo and the memory?
(...that time is the fire in which we burn.)

(This is the school in which we learn...)
What is the self amid this blaze?
What am I now that I was then
Which I shall suffer and act again,
The theodicy I wrote in my high school days
Restored all life from infancy,
The children shouting are bright as they run
(This is the school in which they learn . . .)
Ravished entirely in their passing play!
(...that time is the fire in which they burn.)

Avid its rush, that reeling blaze!
Where is my father and Eleanor?
Not where are they now, dead seven years,
But what they were then?
No more? No more?
From Nineteen-Fourteen to the present day,
Bert Spira and Rhoda consume, consume
Not where they are now (where are they now?)
But what they were then, both beautiful;

Each minute bursts in the burning room,
The great globe reels in the solar fire,
Spinning the trivial and unique away.
(How all things flash! How all things flare!)
What am I now that I was then?
May memory restore again and again
The smallest color of the smallest day:
Time is the school in which we learn,
Time is the fire in which we burn.


[Back to Lachlan's Homepage] | [What's New]
[Deep River 2004] | [Deep River links] | [Wildflowers of Deep River, Eastern Ontario]

[Intro - CranClan] . . [Happening Things] . . [The Daresbury Laboratory Web Ring of Life] . . [NCS - Non-Competitive Scrabble] . . [Garden Gnomes of Daresbury Laboratory] . . [Nature and Local UK Things] . . [USA 2001 and LDEO Columbia University] . . [Historical Literature/Poetry] . . [Music] . . [Misc Things] . . [DL SRS Status] . . [Conference and Travel Things] . . [The Wonders of Team Building] . . [Other People's Homepages] . . [Crystallographic Internet Front] . . [While in Melbourne] . . [Semi Relevant Links]


(This Webpage Page in No Frames Mode)

If you are feeling sociable, my new E-mail address is [address now invalid] (replace the *at* with an @ ) . Old E-mail addresses might be giving forwarding or reliability problems. Please use clear titles in any Email - otherwise messages might accidentally get put in the SPAM list due to large amount of junk Email being received. So, if you don't get an expected reply to any messages, please try again.