by Admin | Dec 26, 2025 | Emerald Book Club, December Poems, Poems, Poetry
December by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.
Darkest of all Decembers
Ever my life has known,
Sitting here by the embers,
Stunned and helpless, alone—
Dreaming of two graves lying
Out in the damp and chill:
One where the buzzard, flying,
Pauses at Malvern Hill;
The other—alas! the pillows
Of that uneasy bed
Rise and fall with the billows
Over our sailor's head.
Theirs the heroic story —
Died, by frigate and town!
Theirs the Calm and the Glory,
Theirs the Cross and the Crown.
Mine to linger and languish
Here by the wintry sea.
Ah, faint heart! in thy anguish,
What is there left to thee?
Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.
by Admin | Dec 26, 2025 | December Poems, Poems, Poetry
December by Rebecca Hey
As human life begins and ends with woe,
So doth the year with darkness and with storm.
Mute is each sound, and vanish'd each fair form
That wont to cheer us; yet a sacred glow—
A moral beauty,—to which Autumn's show,
Or Spring's sweet blandishments, or Summer's bloom,
Are but vain pageants,—mitigate the gloom,
What time December's angry tempests blow.
'Twas when the "Earth had doff'd her gaudy trim,
As if in awe," that she received her Lord;
And angels jubilant attuned the hymn
Which the church echoes still in sweet accord,
And ever shall, while Time his course doth fill,
'Glory to God on high! on earth, peace and good will!'
by Admin | Dec 26, 2025 | December Poems, Poems, Poetry
December Days by Caleb Prentiss
Ruthless winter's rude career
Comes to close the parting year;
Fleecy flakes of snow descend,
Boreal winds the welkin rend.
Reflect, oh man! and well remember
That dull old age is dark December;
For soon the year of life is gone,
When hoary hairs like snow come on.
by Admin | Dec 26, 2025 | December Poems, Poems, Poetry
Come, come thou bleak December wind,
And blow the dry leaves from the tree!
Flash, like a Love-thought, thro' me, Death
And take a Life that wearies me.
by Admin | Dec 17, 2025 | Word of the Day, Emerald Book Club, Vocabulary
a clever action in a game or other situation that is intended to achieve an advantage and usually involves taking a risk
(in chess) an opening move in which a player makes a sacrifice, typically of a pawn, for the sake of a compensating advantage.
an act or
remark that is calculated to gain an advantage, especially at the
outset of a situation.
- “Starting the meeting with an unexpected question was a clever gambit to capture everyone’s attention.”
- ” The Detective’s Gambit of pretending to be a Potential suspect helped him solve the case”.
-
“his resignation was a tactical gambit”
“chess opening in which a pawn or piece is risked for advantage later,” 1650s, gambett, from Italian gambetto, literally “a tripping up” (as a trick in wrestling), from gamba “leg,” from Late Latin gamba “horse’s hock or leg” (see gambol (n.)).
Applied to chess openings in Spanish in 1561 by Ruy Lopez, who traced it to the Italian word, but the form in Spanish generally was gambito, which led to French gambit, which has influenced the English spelling of the word. The broader sense of “opening move meant to gain advantage” in English is recorded from 1855.
Gambit captures the balance between risk and strategy. It reminds us that thoughtful risks—when taken intentionally—can open doors to opportunity, creativity, and growth. The word is both intellectually rich and highly versatile, making it useful across many contexts.
💬 Members’ Thoughts:
What does gambit mean to you?
-
Have you ever taken a calculated risk that paid off?
-
Where have you seen this word used—in books, games, or real life?
Share your thoughts in the comments below. Your perspective may be featured in a future Vocabulary Tuesdays post.
by Admin | Dec 15, 2025 | Holy Sonnets, John Donne, Poems
Holy Sonnet VIII: If Faithful Souls Be Alike Glorified by John Donne
If faithful souls be alike glorified
As angels, then my fathers soul doth see,
And adds this even to full felicity,
That valiantly I hells wide mouth o'erstride:
But if our minds to these souls be descried
By circumstances, and by signs that be
Apparent in us, not immediately,
How shall my mind's white truth by them be tried?
They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn,
And vile blasphemous conjurers to call
On Jesus name, and Pharisaical
Dissemblers feign devotion. Then turn,
O pensive soul, to God, for he knows best
Thy true grief, for he put it in my breast.
by Admin | Dec 15, 2025 | Holy Sonnets, John Donne, Poems
Holy Sonnet VII: At the round earth’s imagin’d corners by John Donne
At the round earth's imagined corners, blow
Your trumpets, angels, and arise, arise
From death, you numberless infinities
Of souls, and to your scattered bodies go,
All whom the flood did, and fire shall, o'erthrow,
All whom war, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies,
Despair, law, chance, hath slain, and you whose eyes,
Shall behold God, and never taste death's woe.
But let them sleep, Lord, and me mourn a space;
For, if above all these, my sins abound,
'Tis late to ask abundance of thy grace,
When we are there. Here on this lowly ground,
Teach me how to repent; for that's as good
As if thou hadst seal'd my pardon with thy blood.
by Admin | Dec 15, 2025 | Holy Sonnets, John Donne, Poems
Holy Sonnet V I am a Little World made Cunningly by John Donne
I am a little world made cunningly
Of elements and an angelic sprite,
But black sin hath betray'd to endless night
My world's both parts, and oh both parts must die.
You which beyond that heaven which was most high
Have found new spheres, and of new lands can write,
Pour new seas in mine eyes, that so I might
Drown my world with my weeping earnestly,
Or wash it, if it must be drown'd no more.
But oh it must be burnt; alas the fire
Of lust and envy have burnt it heretofore,
And made it fouler; let their flames retire,
And burn me O Lord, with a fiery zeal
Of thee and thy house, which doth in eating heal.
by Admin | Dec 15, 2025 | Holy Sonnets, John Donne, Poems
Holy Sonnet IV: Oh my black soul! by John Dunne
Oh my black soul! now art thou summoned
By sickness, death's herald, and champion;
Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turn to whence he is fled;
Or like a thief, which till death's doom be read,
Wisheth himself delivered from prison,
But damned and haled to execution,
Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lack;
But who shall give thee that grace to begin?
Oh make thy self with holy mourning black,
And red with blushing, as thou art with sin;
Or wash thee in Christ's blood, which hath this might
That being red, it dyes red souls to white.
by Admin | Dec 15, 2025 | Emerald Book Club
Holy Sonnet III: O Might Those Sighs And Tears Return Again by John Donne
O might those sighs and tears return again
Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent,
That I might in this holy discontent
Mourn with some fruit, as I have mourned in vain;
In mine Idolatry what showers of rain
Mine eyes did waste! what griefs my heart did rent!
That sufferance was my sin; now I repent;
'Cause I did suffer I must suffer pain.
Th' hydropic drunkard, and night-scouting thief,
The itchy lecher, and self-tickling proud
Have the remembrance of past joys for relief
Of coming ills. To (poor) me is allowed
No ease; for long, yet vehement grief hath been
Th' effect and cause, the punishment and sin.
