Duco, Ducas, Ducat.
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Dear Tom,
I reckon I'm the first poster on this forum to change the title of a poetry offering. Well, here goes: from now on the poem at the top of this thread is called Duco, Ducis, Ducit .
This is shameful, but I suspected as much: it's been so long to recall the difference between the first and second conjugation of the active singular present tense of such a regular verb as ducere.
I feel a punishment exercise coming on.
Andrew.
I reckon I'm the first poster on this forum to change the title of a poetry offering. Well, here goes: from now on the poem at the top of this thread is called Duco, Ducis, Ducit .
This is shameful, but I suspected as much: it's been so long to recall the difference between the first and second conjugation of the active singular present tense of such a regular verb as ducere.
I feel a punishment exercise coming on.
Andrew.
- tom.d.stiller
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- tom.d.stiller
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I forgot: the final version, sent to the Herald, has Tom and Laurie's editing/criticism.
Duco, Ducis, Ducit.
In my school, every classics pupil scrawled
on their vocabulary jotter, Latin is
a dead language; as dead as dead can be.
Latin killed the Romans, and now
it's killing me. We never questioned
those sentiments; thought only of ruffling
Mr. Dawson, our Latin master.
Salvete discipuli! he'd announce
with a swish of his gown, the tawse
just visible on his shoulder. Salve
magister!, we chanted in reply.
Declensions and conjugations were boot-camps
of discipline: ye gods, he drummed it in.
Yet he unveiled the ancient world to sons
and daughters of miners, lit a lamp,
armed us with knowledge of the language we speak:
lines to write on the jotter of his life.
Duco, Ducis, Ducit.
In my school, every classics pupil scrawled
on their vocabulary jotter, Latin is
a dead language; as dead as dead can be.
Latin killed the Romans, and now
it's killing me. We never questioned
those sentiments; thought only of ruffling
Mr. Dawson, our Latin master.
Salvete discipuli! he'd announce
with a swish of his gown, the tawse
just visible on his shoulder. Salve
magister!, we chanted in reply.
Declensions and conjugations were boot-camps
of discipline: ye gods, he drummed it in.
Yet he unveiled the ancient world to sons
and daughters of miners, lit a lamp,
armed us with knowledge of the language we speak:
lines to write on the jotter of his life.
- Byron
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Arr! the published bard of the Burgh. Our herald in troubled times.
All times have troubles. Our's are just significant to us.
Latin, old and new, but never dead. Troubles old and new, but seldom read. If only our masters mastered the old to understand the new.
Andrew knows what I mean.

"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.
- linda_lakeside
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- Byron
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Dear mssss Florida Babe, I didn't take the class coz I wus too thick and they wouldn't let me in so I stayed outside and picked me mates and me nose.....so there!!!!
However, dear lady, I did scrounge 'Langenscheidt's Latin - English Dictionary' from a cousin wot I no longer get on wiv, coz he's a pillock.
However, dear lady, I did scrounge 'Langenscheidt's Latin - English Dictionary' from a cousin wot I no longer get on wiv, coz he's a pillock.
"Bipolar is a roller-coaster ride without a seat belt. One day you're flying with the fireworks; for the next month you're being scraped off the trolley" I said that.