OVER the weekend in the Scottish Highlands, I heard gladsome
tidings that the ginger rodent, aka Treasury Minister Danny Alexander, may be caught in a trap.
with the setting of the sun, "turned to dance and gladsome
I love to see the gentle moon, And all the stars, by night, Come twinkling in upon the sky, In gladsome
love and light.
The grandfather] heard Clara's gladsome
voice, too, as she weeded and watered the flower-bed which had been given her for her own.
And it is certainly befitting of all that is associated with gastronomic, gourmet and gladsome
Expect early songs from Boat To Bolivia, Gladsome
, Humour And Blue and Salutation Road and current material.
Since the overseas reports of Oscar Wilde's premature death, in Paris, at age forty-six, I have experienced pangs of grief and loss, and have felt the need to memorialize our gladsome
meeting eighteen years ago in a fuller way than the exigencies of newspaper journalism permitted at the time.
The show, called Skilful Hands and Gladsome
Hearts, has been curated by Gillian Grute and aims to highlight needlework by Catholic convents.
It is the extended family that I find irksome, but it is a gladsome
thing that our house is too small to be able to offer them Yuletide hospitality.
If he did, that's gladsome
news for those bored residents.
J]urisprudence is not a dark lantern, shining in a narrow circle, and never changing, but a gladsome
light, which, slowly emerging from original darkness, grows and spreads with human improvement, until at last it becomes as broad and general as the Light of Day.
The author goes on to describe the places where jazz is played as "wonderful refuges of basic folk-lore and primeval passion" where "wild men and wild women have danced to jazz for gladsome
generations" (27), and he begins his conclusion by combining all of the racial implications of the foregoing passages into Vachel Lindsay's poem "The Congo," essentially reducing jazz musicians to a couple of drunken animals that bang on tables and empty barrels:
glades are girt about with mists, And o'er its sward a slumberous streamlet twists, Flowing like Lethe, soundless.
sound of Sally Army brass bands belting out Jingle Bells and Hark The Heraldputs a bounce into Christmastide as traditional as John Betjeman's haunting ``And is it true,This most tremendous tale of all.
And to my heart are still endeared The thoughts with which it then was cheered; The faith which saw that gladsome
pair Walk through the fire with unsinged hair.