Bore Da! We're happy to share PART 1 of our new Podcast "Into the.... Birds" today in the Backstage area. We wanted to explore lots of different subjects from a musical perspective, so Birds is our first theme.
Happy listening, we really enjoyed making this episode & learning more about our feathered friends & their amazing musical abilities.
The Podcast is accompanied by an avian themed playlist too & features some amazing artists.
You can join the Music Club at any time on a Monthly or Annual basis. We still have some 7" Detour vinyl that accompany the Annual Membership & the Listening Party is coming up on August 15th. We'd love you to check it out, the Backstage is music & show filled & being added to all the time.
Hit us up if there's any theme that you'd like us to cover. Matt has suggested Robots as the next topic 😚
Catch up soon
Lots of love R&R&M
Link to podcast:
https://www.thejoyformidable.com/pages/backstage-podcasts/
TJF Music Club - Monthly Plan
£7.50
Thank you for checking out our monthly TJF Music Club. By joining the club you will get Backstage access to lots of exclusive music, online shows and livestreams with your support going directly to the artist. Here's some of the offerings that you can expect from… Read More
TJF Music Club - Annual Plan
£74.99
Thank you for checking out our annual TJF Music Club. By joining the club you will get Backstage access to lots of exclusive music, online shows and livestreams with your support going directly to the artist. Here's some of the offerings that you can expect from the… Read More
Hail to thee, blithe Spirit!
Bird thou never wert,
That from Heaven, or near it,
Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.
Higher still and higher
From the earth thou springest
Like a cloud of fire;
The blue deep thou wingest,
And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.
In the golden lightning
Of the sunken sun,
O'er which clouds are bright'ning,
Thou dost float and run;
Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.
The pale purple even
Melts around thy flight;
Like a star of Heaven,
In the broad day-light
Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight,
Keen as are the arrows
Of that silver sphere,
Whose intense lamp narrows
In the white dawn clear
Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.
All the earth and air
With thy voice is loud,
As, when night is bare,
From one lonely cloud
The moon rains out her beams, and Heaven is overflow'd.
What thou art we know not;
What is most like thee?
From rainbow clouds there flow not
Drops so bright to see
As from thy presence showers a rain of melody.
Like a Poet hidden
In the light of thought,
Singing hymns unbidden,
Till the world is wrought
To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:
Like a high-born maiden
In a palace-tower,
Soothing her love-laden
Soul in secret hour
With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:
Like a glow-worm golden
In a dell of dew,
Scattering unbeholden
Its aëreal hue
Among the flowers and grass, which screen it from the view:
Like a rose embower'd
In its own green leaves,
By warm winds deflower'd,
Till the scent it gives
Makes faint with too much sweet those heavy-winged thieves:
Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awaken'd flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Teach us, Sprite or Bird,
What sweet thoughts are thine:
I have never heard
Praise of love or wine
That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.
Chorus Hymeneal,
Or triumphal chant,
Match'd with thine would be all
But an empty vaunt,
A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.
What objects are the fountains
Of thy happy strain?
What fields, or waves, or mountains?
What shapes of sky or plain?
What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?
With thy clear keen joyance
Languor cannot be:
Shadow of annoyance
Never came near thee:
Thou lovest: but ne'er knew love's sad satiety.
Waking or asleep,
Thou of death must deem
Things more true and deep
Than we mortals dream,
Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?
We look before and after,
And pine for what is not:
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Yet if we could scorn
Hate, and pride, and fear;
If we were things born
Not to shed a tear,
I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.
Better than all measures
Of delightful sound,
Better than all treasures
That in books are found,
Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!
Teach me half the gladness
That thy brain must know,
Such harmonious madness
From my lips would flow
The world should listen then, as I am listening now.
podcast :
(Big thanks to Anthony Dovi for the beautiful logo too 💕)
GBP
