#Cyriack whose Grandsire

[adventuresofalgy]

When Algy got up on Sunday morning, he found that it was even colder than the day before. The bird baths and ponds were frozen solid, and a thick layer of frost sparkled on the ground.

But Sunday was a day which Algy liked to set aside for the study of poetry, and although it was unpleasantly chilly, the sun was shining and the day was bright.

Recalling that human beings sometimes used what they called a standing desk to read – and in view of the fact that any perch which could support the weight of a book as well as a fluffy bird was likely to send a bitter chill through his tail feathers in such icy weather – Algy decided to try this rather odd method for himself.

As he had chosen a particularly heavy volume of verse, Algy was glad to be able to rest his book on a table, but before long he discovered that standing up to read did not in fact come naturally to a fluffy bird, and it was actually rather awkward and uncomfortable, for although the book was certainly well supported, he himself was not.

Determined not to give up too soon, however, Algy turned the page and began to study a rather abstruse poem by Milton. It was a wee bit difficult to understand, but he knew that what the poet was really trying to say was simply that it was a jolly good idea to have a rest, and with that he could heartily agree. On reflection, however, Algy suspected that in order to follow the poet's recommendation properly, he was going to have to find a much more comfortable position and perch…

Happy Sunday everybody 😀

Cyriack, whose Grandsire on the Royal Bench Of British Themis, with no mean applause Pronounc't, and in his volumes taught our Laws, Which others at their Bar so often wrench: Today deep thoughts resolve with me to drench In mirth, that after no repenting draws; Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause, And what the Swede intend, and what the French. To measure life learn thou betimes, and know Toward solid good what leads the nearest way; For other things mild Heav'n a time ordains, And disapproves that care, though wise in show, That with superfluous burden loads the day, And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.

[Algy is reading Sonnet XXI Cyriack, whose Grandsire by the 17th century English poet John Milton. And if anyone would like assistance in interpreting this poem, Algy can recommend this web page, which he believes to be accurate, although he cannot guarantee it. NOTE Algy was concerned to see that some poetry web sites have interpreted the poem to mean almost the exact opposite to what Milton intended. Milton is actually inviting Cyriack to rest from his studies and labours, and have a drink with him - in moderation - and he states that Heaven (i.e. God) has ordained times of rest. Milton is not suggesting that Cyriack should devote himself to study and work and avoid more superficial things, as some online sources suggest, but quite the opposite!]