This poem was discovered amongst our dear friend the late Edmund St James' unpublished literary papers.
UNTITLED
(after Andre Maurois)
Death comes; listen to Destiny singing:
Forget me quickly,
Mourning dress is charming,
For six months only.
Don’t stand beside my grave weeping
Nor place flowers on my tomb,
Keep your flowers for the living,
Who can see them bloom.
Don’t morn me. Where I sleep
There are no songs
And my body feeds
The grass, green and long.
But if one melancholy afternoon, wreathed
In tendrils of autumn mist,
You resume that Madonna face,
That I oft kissed
That gentle melancholy air
That once I loved so much:
Then forget that you have forgotten me
For one brief touch.
As our late, lamented Edmund's literary executor, although I may not sympathise with some of the poem's more unorthodox sentiments, I nonetheless thought I should release it to the world as an example of Edmund's talent, whether as a translator or as an original artist. Amongst dear Edmund's voluminous papers I am sure there are other gems to come.
Father Aloysius Gonzaga Lancelot O'Boyle
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Sunday, July 20, 2008
A Sad Announcement
As literary executor of Edmund St James, and therefore administrator of the Edmund St James blog, it is my sad duty to announce the recent decease of Edmund St James.
Edmund, who was both a dear friend of mine and a valued member of the St Anacletus congregation, lost his life in a tragic accident the Sunday before last. It seems that he was quietly enjoying with his mother the displays at at the Auckland Domain wintergardens the Sunday before last when, inexplicably, his mother's wheelchair ran into one of the ponds. Edmund tragically drowned in a heroic attempt to rescue her.
Edmund's funeral was a deeply moving occasion, and we will shortly be publishing tributes from some of Edmund's many friends and admirers. It is also my intention to set up a trust fund and work towards publishing some of the excellent and creditable works that Edmund left behind in his voluminous papers.
I mourn the loss of a man who was both a dear friend and a wonderful support in the work of this parish.
Fr. Aloysius Gonzaga Lancelot O'Boyle
Parish priest, Church of St Anacletus and the Thousand Martyrs
Edmund, who was both a dear friend of mine and a valued member of the St Anacletus congregation, lost his life in a tragic accident the Sunday before last. It seems that he was quietly enjoying with his mother the displays at at the Auckland Domain wintergardens the Sunday before last when, inexplicably, his mother's wheelchair ran into one of the ponds. Edmund tragically drowned in a heroic attempt to rescue her.
Edmund's funeral was a deeply moving occasion, and we will shortly be publishing tributes from some of Edmund's many friends and admirers. It is also my intention to set up a trust fund and work towards publishing some of the excellent and creditable works that Edmund left behind in his voluminous papers.
I mourn the loss of a man who was both a dear friend and a wonderful support in the work of this parish.
Fr. Aloysius Gonzaga Lancelot O'Boyle
Parish priest, Church of St Anacletus and the Thousand Martyrs
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Edmund St Clair St James: About Myself.
If you will kindly bear with me, I shall write about myself in the third person, since I should feel much freer and more comfortable that way.
Edmund St Clair St James was born in 1953 in a small coastal town, that shall remain at this stage nameless. He was an only child. His father was elderly, a retired bank manager, who died soon after Edmund was born, leaving a leaving a large collection of rare stamps and Edmund and his mother in modest but comfortable circumstances.
When he was five years old, a curious young Edmund upset a pot of cabbage soup boiling on the stove over himself, and was thereafter hideously scarred. It was thus in some ways a lonely childhood, but not an unhappy one, with the company of his dear mother, and a range of absorbing interests, such as the collection of insects and of pre-decimal coins. (If anyone reading this should happen to possess a spare example of a 1953 Coronation sixpence, Edmund would indeed be glad to hear from you.)
We shall pass quickly over Edmund's adolescence; suffice to say that he received a sound enough education to attain an advanced library qualification, the Certificate of the New Zealand Library Association, at the age of 21 (the glad news coming on the very day of his attaining his majority, thus giving cause for a happy double celebration toasted in mother’s elderberry wine). Edmund is believed to be the youngest person ever to be awarded that distinction. He soon afterwards accepted a position at the Invercargill branch library of the New Zealand Society of Accountants, where he rapidly rose through the ranks to the position of Deputy-cataloguer, in which role he spent some thirty fruitful and productive years.
Three years ago Edmund took early retirement to look after his dear mother at home, who had suffered a stroke which left her paralysed in all extremities. Edmund has never married, but has looked after a series of what he likes to call his little animal friends, and, once he has mastered the skills of digital photography, will regale you, dear reader, with photographs of his cat, 'Nancy', named thus after his favourite poet, Edna St Vincent Millay (“Not with Libations,/But with Shouts and Laughter”; etc.).
Edmund’s interests are various and include not only numismatics but also reading, tatting, and, of course, gardening (he prides himself on his petunias). There is between times nothing Edmund likes better than a quiet evening in winter beside the fireside with the gentle puffing of his pipe and the rustle of his newspaper for company; and in summer perhaps a gentle paddle at the seaside (with dear mother in her wheelchair watching from the shore). In recent years, Edmund has taken up the art of creative writing, and has made several essays into verse, modelling his novice attempts upon the work of his favourite poets, William Wordsworth (of ‘Daffodils’ fame), Arthur Clough (the early years), and Ella Wheeler Wilcox; but none, of course, can compare to the immortal work of dear Edna St Vincent Millay.
He, again with some trepidation, takes the liberty of submitting to the reader's charitable judgement one of his recent verses below ("a poor thing but mine own").
Edmund St Clair St James was born in 1953 in a small coastal town, that shall remain at this stage nameless. He was an only child. His father was elderly, a retired bank manager, who died soon after Edmund was born, leaving a leaving a large collection of rare stamps and Edmund and his mother in modest but comfortable circumstances.
When he was five years old, a curious young Edmund upset a pot of cabbage soup boiling on the stove over himself, and was thereafter hideously scarred. It was thus in some ways a lonely childhood, but not an unhappy one, with the company of his dear mother, and a range of absorbing interests, such as the collection of insects and of pre-decimal coins. (If anyone reading this should happen to possess a spare example of a 1953 Coronation sixpence, Edmund would indeed be glad to hear from you.)
We shall pass quickly over Edmund's adolescence; suffice to say that he received a sound enough education to attain an advanced library qualification, the Certificate of the New Zealand Library Association, at the age of 21 (the glad news coming on the very day of his attaining his majority, thus giving cause for a happy double celebration toasted in mother’s elderberry wine). Edmund is believed to be the youngest person ever to be awarded that distinction. He soon afterwards accepted a position at the Invercargill branch library of the New Zealand Society of Accountants, where he rapidly rose through the ranks to the position of Deputy-cataloguer, in which role he spent some thirty fruitful and productive years.
Three years ago Edmund took early retirement to look after his dear mother at home, who had suffered a stroke which left her paralysed in all extremities. Edmund has never married, but has looked after a series of what he likes to call his little animal friends, and, once he has mastered the skills of digital photography, will regale you, dear reader, with photographs of his cat, 'Nancy', named thus after his favourite poet, Edna St Vincent Millay (“Not with Libations,/But with Shouts and Laughter”; etc.).
Edmund’s interests are various and include not only numismatics but also reading, tatting, and, of course, gardening (he prides himself on his petunias). There is between times nothing Edmund likes better than a quiet evening in winter beside the fireside with the gentle puffing of his pipe and the rustle of his newspaper for company; and in summer perhaps a gentle paddle at the seaside (with dear mother in her wheelchair watching from the shore). In recent years, Edmund has taken up the art of creative writing, and has made several essays into verse, modelling his novice attempts upon the work of his favourite poets, William Wordsworth (of ‘Daffodils’ fame), Arthur Clough (the early years), and Ella Wheeler Wilcox; but none, of course, can compare to the immortal work of dear Edna St Vincent Millay.
He, again with some trepidation, takes the liberty of submitting to the reader's charitable judgement one of his recent verses below ("a poor thing but mine own").
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Read Me Not (Poem)
Let me read dry, sere old books no longer,
But embrace with open arms instead
Blogging: where the flowing tides tug stronger
At rotten mooring ropes of heart and head.
Let my mind set its reluctant white sails
Way out beyond this safe, familiar shore:
Into wild tumults of tide, storm and waves
Where dry autumnal leaves rustle no more.
Edmund St. James
But embrace with open arms instead
Blogging: where the flowing tides tug stronger
At rotten mooring ropes of heart and head.
Let my mind set its reluctant white sails
Way out beyond this safe, familiar shore:
Into wild tumults of tide, storm and waves
Where dry autumnal leaves rustle no more.
Edmund St. James
Monday, June 23, 2008
Dressing with Distinction
A modest proposal for a book of some utility.
The increasing untidiness of our public dress has long caused me some concern. Where today are the hats and ties that in gentler and kinder times all gentlemen seemed to wear, or the gloves without which no lady worth that title would ever dream of appearing in public?
Although myself scarred by a childhood accident and of a modest and retiring character, I have always prided myself on the selection and maintenance of my clothes , and if I may say so myself, have always dressed with a quiet distinction and some refinement. Now that circumstances have brought it about that I have the time to do so, I would like to pass my knowledge on to a younger generation that did not share my advantages. I am therefore embarking on a book that will advise on these matters.
To whet the appetite, chapter headings so far include:-
Selecting the Right Pipe Just for You
The Multivarious Virtues of the Cotton Shirt
Avoiding the Ankle Gap with Garters
A Gentleman's Drawers
A Tweed Jacket for Every Occasion
Sensible Overcoats for All Kinds of Weather
The Glories of Galoshes
When a Flat Cap is the Only Choice
Decorated Bicycle Clips: the Thinking Man's Accessory.
And much more! I would be glad to hear from any publisher who feels that such a much needed work would be a worthwhile venture.
The increasing untidiness of our public dress has long caused me some concern. Where today are the hats and ties that in gentler and kinder times all gentlemen seemed to wear, or the gloves without which no lady worth that title would ever dream of appearing in public?
Although myself scarred by a childhood accident and of a modest and retiring character, I have always prided myself on the selection and maintenance of my clothes , and if I may say so myself, have always dressed with a quiet distinction and some refinement. Now that circumstances have brought it about that I have the time to do so, I would like to pass my knowledge on to a younger generation that did not share my advantages. I am therefore embarking on a book that will advise on these matters.
To whet the appetite, chapter headings so far include:-
Selecting the Right Pipe Just for You
The Multivarious Virtues of the Cotton Shirt
Avoiding the Ankle Gap with Garters
A Gentleman's Drawers
A Tweed Jacket for Every Occasion
Sensible Overcoats for All Kinds of Weather
The Glories of Galoshes
When a Flat Cap is the Only Choice
Decorated Bicycle Clips: the Thinking Man's Accessory.
And much more! I would be glad to hear from any publisher who feels that such a much needed work would be a worthwhile venture.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Edmund St James' Investment Opportunities
Some correspondence which may be of interest to readers seeking wise investment opportunities (see the attached comments).
Friday, June 20, 2008
The Wit and Wisdom of Edmund St James
Edmund St James humbly offers the world the fruits of his years of experience and wisdom in the form of a number of cryptic, gnomic and/or aphoristic utterances of his own creation. May these comfort and inspire you over the years as they have him.
If you want to warm your back, turn your face away from the fire.
Tying up your shoelaces saves a trip.
Avoid the plague like a fox.
Avoid a fox like the plague.
A stitch in time sets the universe to rights.
There's many a muckle 'twixt the clip and the clop.
The above are just a sampler from the collected wit and wisdom of Edmund St James. There is much more to come!
If you want to warm your back, turn your face away from the fire.
Tying up your shoelaces saves a trip.
Avoid the plague like a fox.
Avoid a fox like the plague.
A stitch in time sets the universe to rights.
There's many a muckle 'twixt the clip and the clop.
The above are just a sampler from the collected wit and wisdom of Edmund St James. There is much more to come!
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