Poem for Saturday, 'Wrath of Khan'

Lullaby of an Infant Chief
By Sir Walter Scott

O, hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight,
Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;
The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see,
They are all belonging, dear babie, to thee.
O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.

O, fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,
It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;
Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,
Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.
O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.

O, hush thee, my babie, the time soon will come,
When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;
Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,
For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.
O ho ro, i ri ri, cadul gu lo.

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I'm totally distracted, so I'm going to keep this short, because older son is reading Pride and Prejudice in English and guess what we have on the DVD player. My major accomplishment of the day was getting my review of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan posted -- that one was as difficult to write as the review of its predecessor was easy, once I decided I was just going to say what I wanted instead of what I figured was expected. (Is there anything to say about TWOK that has not already been said by many people, many times?)

Otherwise, I took a walk, Adam burned his hand with a glue gun in photography class making a pinhole camera, we had dinner with my parents, we watched Smallville which was awesome -- The Matrix meets Inception with some actual Superman near the end -- and I am totally distracted by Colin Firth's pout so I'll just shut up. And I get to record The Last Legion overnight. Here, have a Brookside Gardens greenhouse photo, since we're supposed to get another ice storm tonight.