Last night I learned of the death of Steve Gould. He was/is one of
my personal heroes.
His chapter in Ontogeny and Phylogeny on the history of scientific
rascism is an entire college education in a single chapter.
When he had cander 20 years ago, he and I were corresponding. We shared
an interest in folk music, and in particular, in the way Pete Seeger
sang this song.
In rememberence. Damn it.
mike
------
The water is wide, I cannot get o'er,
And neither have I wings to fly,
O, go and get me some little boat,
To carry o'er my true love and I.
A-down in the meadow the other day,
A-gath'ring flowers both fine and gay,
A-gath'ring flowers both red and blue,
I little thought what love can do.
I put my hand into some soft bush,
Thinking the fairest flower to pluck;
I pricked my finger unto the bone
And left the fairest flower alone.
I leaned my back against some oak,
Thinking it was a trusty tree,
But first he bended and then he broke,
And so my true love proved false to me.
There is a ship sailing on the sea,
She's loaded deep as deep can be;
But not so deep as in love I am,
I care not whether I sink or swim.
Where love is planted, O, there it grows,
It grows and blossoms like the rose.
It has a sweet and pleasant smell
No flow'r on earth can it excel.
Must I be bound, O, and she go free,
Must I love one that cannot love me ?
Why must I play such a childish part,
And love a girl that will break my heart ?
O, love is handsome and love is fine,
And love is charming when it is true;
As it grow older, it groweth colder,
And fades away like the morning dew.
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