Swan Brothers of The Last Judgement

“Judge not, lest thee be judged.”

“Thou shalt not bring false witness against thy neighbor.”

There are two families at the epicenter of a Apocalyptic Message, the Trump and Rosemond family. Both families are undergoing a inquisition. I believe President Trump is on course to bring the world to an end.

John ‘The Nazarite’

Our Sweet Lady and Swan Brethren

My ancestor, Godschalk Rosemondt, was the Master of Louvain and the Falcon Art College, as well as member of the Swan Brethren.A Rosamond family researcher has seen letters exchanged between Godschalk Rosemondt and the great Erasmus with the seal of a dancing wolf upon them. This is a Bosch seal related somehow to the Janskirk church where attended members of the Swan Brethren. The Renaissance artist, Hieronymus Bosch, executed commissions for the Brethren and their church. One such work is titled the Seven Deadly Sins which is the subject matter of Rosemondt’s book ‘Confessionals’.


Rosemondt’s good friend, Pope Adrien, has been anointed the Vicar of Christ. Before that he led the Inquisition in Holland. He was the tutor of Charles Quint whose cote of arms in seen next to Rosemondt’s Rose Name, that looks very much like the rose emblem of the Swan Brethren that today, only Hollands royalty can wear, except, this rose is in full bloom. This suggest Rosemondt is the Master Rose Swan.

Rosemond is the Master of Louvain, and the Falcon Art College. He is a Renaissance Art professors and theologian that I found frozen in time, he waiting for almost four hundred years for a gifted ancestor to be born, an artist and theologian that could recognize him, a Lily amongst the thorns. Here is he motto on the rose:

2:2. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.

Sicut lilium inter spinas sic amica mea inter filias

1164/ To Godschalk Rosemondt

This undated letter follows Ep 1153 and Erasmus’s visit to Cologne.

It also report an event that took place on 25 November. It was published in the Epistle ad diversoss.


I have no desire to interrupt you so often with a letter, and yet it
is better for us both. We had enjoyed silence for a time from the
Frisian Domnican who put a gloss long ago on my Moria and since on
my Antibarbari, pouring every sort of rant and calummy on my name
and reputation. And he supposes he is doing right, for this reason
if no other, that I have touched on monks in what I write, although
I always refrain from the outrageous tales told of them too often –
and let us hope, without foundation – by common report, and repeated
of late at the crowded dinner table of the cardinal of Sion, and
have always avoided names of men and even of orders.

. . 1153/ To Godschalk
Rosemondt Louvain 18 October

Gottschalk Rosemondt of Eindhoven in Northern Brabant, matriculated
at the University of Louvain on 1499 and remained there until his
death in 1526. A doctor of divinity in 1516, he succeeded in 1520 to
the chair o f theology formerly held by Jan Briart. Like Briart he
was a personal friend of the future Pope Adrian V1. His prominent
position in the theological faculty notwithstanding , he retained an
open mind towards humanists studies and a measure of sympathy for
Erasmus. This letter is addressed to him in his capacity as rector
of the university for the winter term of 1520-21 (cf Matricule de
Louvain 111-1963) It was published in the Epistolae ad diverse.

In preparation for a confrontations with the theologian Nicolass
Baechem Egmondanus, to be held in the presence of the rector,
Erasmus launches an elaborate protest against his opponent, who had
attacked him from the pulpit of St, Peter’s church on 9 and 14
October, cf Ep 1162s

1162/ To Thomas
More Louvain
November? 1520

This letter give a spirited account between Erasmus and Nicolas
Baechem Egmondanus before the rector of the of the university of
Louvain, Godschlak Rosemondt. Printed in the Epistle ad diverse, it
was no doubt composed with a wider public in mind; Thomas More, to
whom it is addressed, need not have been told at length an episode
of which he was himself a protagonist. Erasmus also described the
confrontation with Baecahmen in Ep 1173:29-109


The story that has reached you about my little dispute with Nicolaus
Egdmondanus in the pressed of the rector of this university is not
wholly true, and yet not quite devoid of truth; such is the way of
rumor, which likes to enhance the facts and tell the story with a
difference. Nor are he and I so much at variance that I would
willingly see him the victim of false reports. So here is the true
story, since I see that in your part of the world you are so idle
you can find time to follow the silly things we do here.

I had written to the rector of the university to protest against the
attacks made on me by Egmondamus in the pulpit and he wrote back
that if I was prepared to listen in person while he did his tale
unfold, we might perhaps come to some agreement. I replied that I
had no objection, though well aware that no lasting good would come
of it. So we met, and the rector took the chair, with me on the
right and Egmondamus on the left. This arrangement was not without
point. He knew Egmondamu’s temperament, and of me he had quite the
wrong idea: he thought I was capable of losing my temper. So he sat
between us, to keep the combatants apart. There upon the rector
opened the subject in a few words, and then, with a countenance of
wonderful and comical gravity Egmondanus began: `I have spoken ill
of no man in my sermon. If Erasmus thinks he has suffered an injury,
let him declare it, and I will answer him.’I asked him whether there
could be a more atrocious injury that to traduce an innocent man in
a public sermon with a string of lies. That roused him at once;
dropping the mask he assumed, and almost purple in the face (his
face was red already, for it was after dinner), `And why, pray, says
he. `do you traduce me in your religious books, `I replied, `your
name is never mentioned.’ Nor has your,’ he retorted, `ever been
uttered in my sermons.’ I denied that my books were religious books,
for in them I set down my down my own imaginings and write whatever
come into my head – a thing, I added, which is not allowed in the
pulpit. `Beside which’, I said’ `I have written for less about you
then the facts warrant. You have told lies about me in public,
calling me a supporter of Luther, whom I have never supported in the
sense that the public reads into your words and you mean yourself.’
By this time he was not merely exited, he was like a madman. `No,
no’, he shouted, `you are behind the whole lot. You are the slippery
customer, the double-dealer; you can twist everything somehow by the
tail.’ And he spewed up, rather than uttered, much more of the same
kind, which glittering bile at the moment put into his head.

I felt my own hackles rising, and already let out a word which was
the forerunner of rather intemperate language, not exactly `Thou
fool’ but something of the sort that would smell worse then it
sounds. But I controlled myself instantly, thinking it better to
respect my won health ( for I was poorly) and that of the rector,
who was also in the doctor’s hands, beside which it seemed foolish
and undignified to answer a madman in his own language.. So I turned
to the rector with a smile and said,’ I could bring evidence of his
outrageous calumnies, and I could return his abuse. He calls me
slippery; I could call him in my turn a fox..

Rosemondt and Erasmus

My ancestor a good friend of a Pope, and he was a friend of the Great Erasmus – whom he defended! Pope Adrien’s papal papers were probably thrown out in the trash by the Medici, along with Gottschalk’s papers? They were at the cusp of the Reformation and, and the center of Dutch Renaissance. Note the wallpaper behind Erasmus, that is like the work of Kehinde Wily, that took me to the very feet of Erasmus and his Habsburg backer – unknowingly!

Members of the Rosemont family were interred in the Minderbroedersklooster that was founded by the Franciscan Monks. Above are my Wieneke kindred who were members of the Order of Saint Francis. This is the real Rose Line. I was destined for the Church.

I am convinced Lara Roozemont and her family are kin to me and Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor.


Renaissance Castle

falcon15 falconc2 falconc3 falconc4 falconc5 falconc6 falconc10

Ghisburtus van Roesmont was a Dutch nobleman of some importance. His mother was jonkvrouw Adriana Theodorici Rover, the daughter of Dirk Edmondszn Roover. The Roover family appears to descend from one of the Radbot rulers of Holland who was given the name Roover, or Rover due to conquest of the Netherlands. Arnoldus Rosemont also descends to Radbot,  who was employed by the Franks to fight the Normans, the Vikings, who were called Rovers. The elder Radbot was allied with the Franks to fight the Viking, many who carried a banner with the image of a wolf. Was their  marriage with a Merovingian princess, and thus a marriage union to carry on this line?

The Rosemonts are mentioned in the genealogical book, Taxandria, an extinct province that was replaced by ‘s-Hertogenbosch that had no rulers, or Papal interference, which is rare. The Swan Brethren appear to have owned Saint John’s Church, and ran its affairs as a guild.

Ghisburtus Rosemont was the church warden of Saint John, and later sat in the ships chair. The chances her knew the Renaissance Artist, Hieronymus Bosch, and his father, is very high for his job to was to hire artists and craftsman.

“Only in 1454thin 1455 were Van Aken and his wife a member of the Brotherhood of Our Lady . In 14611462 kreeg he was commissioned damaged (by fire) altarpiece of the Brotherhood in the former St. John’s Church in collaboration with the master painter Claes Schoonhoven.

This is a remarkable discover. It puts my kindred at the heart of the Dutch Renaissance, for starters.

Here is a translation of a event, a miracle. There is a box. What is the object. What is “Cloth Hall”?

 “On March 16, 1384, Ghijsbrecht Rosemont, witnessed a miracle with Jacob Mertensz. [No. 322 Miracles of Our Lady at ‘s-Hertogenbosch 1381-1603].
Henrick Painter, ships from Den Bosch in 1383 shared in 1397 with Chris Ruffle Mont Tijn a box in the Cloth Hall, which had been the case. Late Godscalck Roes Mont. In 1430 Godschalk Roes Mouth, buy the high sheriff of Den Bosch and Meierij castle Maurick. In 1442 he sold it back to Henry of Vladeracken.

The emblem worn by the Swan Brethren depicts a a rose, or lily,
amongst thorns. At the root of the rose is the Latin word SICUT which
is the first word from a line from Song of Songs.

2:2. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters.
Sicut lilium inter spinas sic amica mea inter filias



ers, who were then still underage, will have been legal children of Ghijsbrecht and Lady Margriet. Master Godschalc was born in Eindhoven around 1483, studied artes in Leuven in 1499 and was promoted there in 1502 as the third of 99 students to magister artium . In 1510 he was nominated by the OLV fraternity for a benefice in the Bossche St.Jan and since 1515 he was also canon of the St.Petrus church in Leuven. He also always resided in Leuven where he was a professor in theology from 1515 and wrote a number of popular tracts.

On September 18, 1467, Ghijsbrecht Roesmont, counselor of Den Bosch and widower of Mabelia , added a codicil to this will in the presence of Rembout Vilt (no.403). Ghijsbrecht, who previously lived in the Orthenstraat (1422), then stayed – exhausted by his old age – in his house at the Zijle. As witnesses, the codicil includes the secretary Rutgher van Arkel (no.14), Ghijsbrechts servant and clerk Sander Pyeck van Batenburg (no.313) and his servant Lysbeth Goyart Goebelens from Eindhoven. In addition to the latter two, Ghijsbrecht also left goods to the St. Lambert church in Liege, the Bossche St. Jan, the St. Peter’s church in Vught, the parish church of Uden and the Bossche OZ brotherhood, as well as Katherijn, widow of the goldsmith. Arnt vander Weyden, to Goetscalc and Jan, sons of his late cousin Jan Goetscalcs Roesmont, and to “the other heirs”. Ghijsbrecht is mentioned in the obitus fratrum of the OLV fraternity under the year 1469/70, together with Rutgher van Arkel, secretary, and master Gerit Boest, counselor and secretary (see no.57). Ghijsbrecht probably died in the beginning of 1470. He was provided with the last sacraments by Brother Alart Alartss, Minderbroeder, and will be buried in the Minderbroedersklooster, just like some other members of his family. As far as he knows, he did not leave children behind. Still, he must have had a son Goyart because on September 12, 1422, Ghijsbrecht drew up a concept in the Bosch ‘protocol in which Henric Heyme promised to pay 50 Arnoldus guilders to ” michi ad opus Godefridi, filii May “.9)

Minderbroedersklooster (‘s-Hertogenbosch)

The Minderbroedersklooster in ‘s-Hertogenbosch was the first monastery founded by the Franciscans in the present Netherlands . The monastery stood on the corner of the current Pensmarkt and Minderbroedersstraat and continued until the current Snellestraat . The Franciscans settled in ‘s-Hertogenbosch in 1228 . This is only two years after the death of the founder of order Francis of Assisi . On a site that Henry I of Brabant had given to the Franciscans, they would establish a monastery and a church . In 1256 the church is demolished to build a new, larger monastery church. In 1263 this church is dedicated by Henricus van Vianden , the Bishop of Utrecht .

Jon Presco



The Rose Wolf and Erasmus

Erasmus wrote letters to Rosemondt. One letter has the Rosemondt wolf seal on it. This is about the Spanish Inquisition. and of great interest to the history of Haarlem. This is one of the greatest genealogical studies of all time.

Jon Presco

Copyright 2017


1153/ To Godschalk Rosemondt Louvain 18 October 1520

Gottschalk Rosemondt of Eindhoven in Northern Brabant, matriculated
at the University of Louvain on 1499 and remained there until his
death in 1526. A doctor of divinity in 1516, he succeeded in 1520 to
the chair o f theology formerly held by Jan Briart. Like Briart he
was a personal friend of the future Pope Adrian V1. His prominent
position in the theological faculty notwithstanding , he retained an
open mind towards humanists studies and a measure of sympathy for
Erasmus. This letter is addressed to him in his capacity as rector
of the university for the winter term of 1520-21 (cf Matricule de
Louvain 111-1963) It was published in the Epistolae ad diverse. In
preparation for a confrontations with the theologian Nicolass
Baechem  Egmondanus, to be held in the presence of the rector,
Erasmus launches an elaborate protest against his opponent, who had
attacked him from the pulpit of St, Peter’s church on 9 and 14

Brotherhood of the Rose Wolf

On the anniversary of 911 an attack on the American embassy in Libya resulted in the death of our American Embassador. This death may constitute the first death in the west as a result of the cultural warfare that is being conducted in cyber space due to the youtube posting of a film that insulted the prophet Mohammed. This film was made in order to counter the Arab Spring, a democratic movement by Muslims that western leaders favored. This movement took away support from the Christian and Jewish Zionists who want a doomsday battle to result in the destruction of most of the world. Why would any sane person back this Mountain of Doom?In the last week we have seen the true nature of the cultural warfare being waged by the fake evangelical religion founded by John Darby in 1840. As Mitt Romeny declared War on the Poor, a meeting of Value Voters was being held by so called Christians, who have declared war on those who are not one of them. These holy voters believe they are defining the White Culture, and the White Race in America, but, they do not promote this race by attraction, but, by pointing out the shortcomings of a 100 million fellow voters in this democracy.

They are not one of us
They are not our skin color
They do not have the money we have
Jesus hates them

No group of men and women have done more to support or define the White Culture in the world, then the Pre-Raphaelite Brother and Sisterhood – along with J.R. Tolkien, whose Hobbits will again grace our silver screens. Tolkien was inspired by William Morris’s ‘The House of Wolfing’ a Pre-Raphaelite masterpiece that went hand in hand with Swineburn’s poems about Fair Rosamond, and Rosamund Queen of the Lombards.

Abve is the Rosemont cote of arms depicting a dancing wolf. The Companions of Rougemont employ the wolf in their cote of arms. The Rosamond family may have its roots in Rougemont, a town that employs a castle atop a red mountain in its civic cote of arms. We see this castle Rougemont on the shields of the knights above.
I am a Nazarite. I am of the House of the Red Wolf. I was dead in the wilderness, but, I am replanted. My cry is heard once again. The war with the Confederate Roman Empire – begins!

“Now, now, ye War-sons!
Now the Wolf waketh!
Lo how the Wood-beast
Wendeth in onset.
E’en as his feet fare
Fall on and follow!”

“Repent! Make straight paths for the Lord!”

Jon Rosamond the Nazarite

Red wolves are special. They are the only large predators ever to have been declared extinct in the wild, bred in captivity and successfully reintroduced to a portion of their former range. Bringing the red wolf back from the brink of extinction has been a pioneering venture, and thanks to the efforts of the people who worked diligently for years to ensure that red wolves would once again live in the wild, there is now hope and cautious optimism. But the future of the red wolf is not secure. Although red wolf numbers continue to rise slowly, the recovery effort faces major challenges.



Leland E. Rosemond
March, 1938
Scarsdale, N. Y.
Some confusion seems to have resulted from the fact that more than
one origin for this name has existed. The oldest, perhaps, is the
Teutonic “Hrosmond”, conspicuous as far back as the 6th century in
the history of the Gepidae and the Lombards of northern Italy. “Mond”
in the Anglo-Saxon signified the protection given by a noble, or
chieftain, to this dependents of every kin, and the name signified
among them strong, or famous, protection. The form “Rosenmund”,
usually reckoned as German, has been interpreted as “rose of the
world,” form the Latin “mundus” for world. In Danish the name appears
as Rozamond; in French, as Rosemonde, in Italian, as Rosmonda, and in
Latin and Spanish, as Rosamunda.
“The Huguenot tradition in the family, confirmed by such sources as
O’Hart’s Irish Pedigrees and Agnew’s French Protestant Exiles,
suggests a French origin also and this has been found in the
name “Rougemont”, still perpetuated by the name of a village in
southeastern France, near Switzerland, and another village in
southwestern Germany. Why this source seems preferable for our origin
will be mentioned again.

The gracious and intelligent aid of Peter Rosemond of Flushing,
Holland, who lived for some years in Basle, Switzerland, was a large
contribution to the writer’s* investigation of the Huguenot
tradition. His family went from Basle to Holland in 1754. Researches
he made over many years, including 1911 to 1917 in Basle, furnished
him with material which he regarded as identifying us with a James
(or Jacob) Rosemond, born in Basle, January 1st, 1654 (which date is
not far from our traditional date of `about 1655′) who left home and
who did not reappear there even for the reading of


*Fred L. Rosemond

Book shows end of Page 4 here

his father’s will in 1679 nor thereafter. This James (or Jacob, for
these names were once interchangeable) was the son of Hans Ulrich
Rosemond, born 1623, a weaver; who was a son of Hans, a weaver, born
1581; who was a son of Fred Rosemond, born 1552, a weaver, member of
town council and a local captain; who was the son of another Hans
whose date of birth is not known, but he too, was a weaver and became
a citizen of Basle in 1534. His father was Erhart de Rougemont who
bought in 1495 “the house called Rebleuten-Zunft in Basle in the
Freistrasse.’ Peter Rosemond further reported information from the
Records Office in Basle that “before Basle the family resided in
Holland up to 1338, and it is said they descended from the estate
Rosemont, near Belfort, in France, where also the village Rougemont
is found.” A family coat-of-arms was registered in Basle about 1537
when the first Hans became a resident there. A reproduction of this
coat-of-arms in the writer’s possession shows a weaver’s crook
conspicuously, and it will be remembered that in Ireland our people
were linen weavers and farmers, and that Edward, the elder, was a
weaver in this country. Peter Rosemond had seen in print the letters
from Erasmus to Gotschalk Rosemondt. He noticed that a seal used by a
Rosemont in Holland, bearing a jumping fox, was like an emblem he had
noticed in a wall of the house Rebleuten-Zunft in Basle. This seal
dated back to 1430, whereas the coat-of-arms above mentioned dates
from 1534, it seems. Peter Rosemond died September 22, 1930. This is
but a sketch of what he wrote.”

But I that am
Part of the perfect witness for the world,
How good it is; I chosen in God’s eyes
To fill the lean account of under men, The lank and hunger-bitten ugliness
Of half his people . . . I that am, ah yet,
And shall be till the worm has share in me,
Fairer than love or the clean truth of God,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I . . . have roses in my name, and make
All flowers glad to set their colour by.
Sunday: Sun’s Day. The Sun gave people light and warmth every day. They decided to name the first (or last) day of the week after the Sun.
Monday: Moon’s Day. The Moon was thought to be very important in the lives of people and their crops.
Tuesday: Tiw’s Day. Tiw, or Tyr, was a Norse god known for his sense of justice.
Wednesday: Woden’s Day. Woden, or Odin, was a Norse god who was one of the most powerful of them all.
Thursday: Thor’s Day. Thor was a Norse god who wielded a giant hammer.
Friday: Frigg’s Day. Frigg was a Norse god equal in power to Odin.
“It is a little matter,” she said; “the War-duke hath sent for the wondrous Byrny that he left in our treasury when he departed to meet the Romans. Belike there shall be a perilous battle, and few hearts need a stout sword-wall more than Thiodolf’s.”
As she spoke, Thorkettle had passed the door, and got into his saddle, and sat his black horse like a mighty man as he slowly rode down the turf bridge that led into the plain. And Asmund went to the door and stood watching him till he set spurs to his horse, and departed a great gallop to the south. Then said Asmund:
“What then are the Gods devising, what wonders do they will?
What mighty need is on them to work the kindreds ill,
That the seed of the Ancient Fathers and a woman of their kin
With her all unfading beauty must blend herself therein?
Are they fearing lest the kindreds should grow too fair and great,
And climb the stairs of God-home, and fashion all their fate,
And make all earth so merry that it never wax the worse,
Nor need a gift from any, nor prayers to quench the curse?
Fear they that the Folk-wolf, growing as the fire from out the spark
Into a very folk-god, shall lead the weaponed Mark
From wood to field and mountain, to stand between the earth
And the wrights that forge its thraldom and the sword to slay its
Fear they that the sons of the wild-wood the Loathly Folk shall
And grow into Gods thereafter, and aloof in God-home dwell?
Therewith he turned back into the Hall, and was heavy-hearted and dreary of aspect; for he was somewhat foreseeing; and it may not be hidden that this seeming Thorkettle was no warrior of the Wolfings, but the Wood-Sun in his likeness; for she had the power and craft of shape-changing.

As he sat he strove to think about the Roman host and how he should deal with it; but despite himself his thoughts wandered, and made for him pictures of his life that should be when this time of battle was over; so that he saw nothing of the troubles that were upon his hands that night, but rather he saw himself partaking in the deeds of the life of man. There he was between the plough-stilts in the acres of the kindred when the west wind was blowing over the promise of early spring; or smiting down the ripe wheat in the hot afternoon amidst the laughter and merry talk of man and maid; or far away over Mirkwood-water watching the edges of the wood against the prowling wolf and lynx, the stars just beginning to shine over his head, as now they were; or wending the windless woods in the first frosts before the snow came, the hunter’s bow or javelin in hand: or coming back from the wood with the quarry on the sledge across the snow, when winter was deep, through the biting icy wind and the whirl of the drifting snow, to the lights and music of the Great Roof, and the merry talk therein and the smiling of the faces glad to see the hunting-carles come back; and the full draughts of mead, and the sweet rest a night-tide when the north wind was moaning round the ancient home.
All seemed good and fair to him, and whiles he looked around him, and saw the long dale lying on his left hand and the dark yews in its jaws pressing up against the rock-ledges of the brook, and on his right its windings as the ground rose up to the buttresses of the great ridge. The moon was rising over it, and he heard the voice of the brook as it tinkled over the stones above him; and the whistle of the plover and the laugh of the whimbrel came down the dale sharp and clear in the calm evening; and sounding far away, because the great hill muffled them, were the voices of his fellows on the ridge, and the songs of the warriors and the high-pitched cries of the watch. And this also was a part of the sweet life which was, and was to be; and he smiled and was happy and loved the days that were coming, and longed for them, as the young man longs for the feet of his maiden at the try sting-place.
“O Thiodolf, now tell me for what cause thou wouldst not bear
This grey wall of the hammer in the tempest of the spear?
Didst thou doubt my faith, O Folk-wolf, or the counsel of the Gods,
That thou needs must cast thee naked midst the flashing battle-rods,
Or is thy pride so mighty that it seemed to thee indeed
That death was a better guerdon than the love of the God-head’s

So men made way before the grey horse, and its rider, and the horse was much spent and travel-worn. So the woman rode right into the ring of warriors, and drew rein there, and lighted down slowly and painfully, and when she was on the ground could scarce stand for stiffness; and two or three of the swains drew near her to help her, and knew her at once for Hrosshild of the Wolfings, for she was well- known as a doughty woman.
Then she said: “Bring me to Otter the War-duke; or bring him hither to me, which were best, since so many men are gathered together; and meanwhile give me to drink; for I am thirsty and weary.”
So while one went for Otter, another reached to her the mead-horn, and she had scarce done her draught, ere Otter was there, for they had found him at the gate of the Burg. He had many a time been in the Wolfing Hall, so he knew her at once and said:
“Hail, Hrosshild! how farest thou?”
She said: “I fare as the bearer of evil tidings. Bid thy folk do on their war-gear and saddle their horses, and make no delay; for now presently shall the Roman host be in Mid-mark!”
Then cried Otter: “Blow up the war-horn! get ye all to your weapons and be ready to leap on your horses, and come ye to the Thing in good order kindred by kindred: later on ye shall hear Hrosshild’s story as she shall tell it to me!”
Therewith he led her to a grassy knoll that was hard by, and set her down thereon and himself beside her, and said:
“Speak now, damsel, and fear not! For now shall one fate go over us all, either to live together or die together as the free children of Tyr, and friends of the Almighty God of the Earth. How camest thou to meet the Romans and know of their ways and to live thereafter?”

But the Romans crossed the ford in good earnest and were soon all gathered together on the western bank making them ready for the march to Wolfstead. And it must be told that the Roman Captain was the more deliberate about this because after the overthrow of his light-armed there the morning before, he thought that the Roof was held by warriors of the kindreds, and not by a few old men, and women, and lads. Therefore he had no fear of their escaping him. Moreover it was this imagination of his, to wit that a strong band of warriors was holding Wolf-stead, that made him deem there were no more worth thinking about of the warriors of the Mark save Otter’s Company and the men in the Hall of the Wolfings.

“Now, now, ye War-sons!
Now the Wolf waketh!
Lo how the Wood-beast
Wendeth in onset.
E’en as his feet fare
Fall on and follow!”

At the other end of the hall was the Woman’s-Chamber, and therein were the looms and other gear for the carding and spinning of wool and the weaving of cloth.
Such was the Roof under which dwelt the kindred of the Wolfings; and the other kindreds of the Mid-mark had roofs like to it; and of these the chiefest were the Elkings, the Vallings, the Alftings, the Beamings, the Galtings, and the Bearings; who bore on their banners the Elk, the Falcon, the Swan, the Tree, the Boar, and the Bear. But other lesser and newer kindreds there were than these: as for the Hartings above named, they were a kindred of the Upper-mark.

GOP vice presidential candidate Paul Ryan’s address at the Value Voters Summit in Washington D.C. Friday was marked with several audible interruptions, as protesters rose at various points to heckle the Republican congressman. In the clip above, a man can be heard cutting off Ryan, yelling “corporations aren’t people,” a reference to presidential candidate Mitt Romney’s famous refrain. The audience quickly shouts him down with chants of “U-S-A, U-S-A,” before he is hauled away by security personnel.

The Family Research Council (FRC) is an American conservative Christian group and lobbying organization formed in the United States in 1981 by James Dobson. It was incorporated in 1983.[1] In the late 1980s, the FRC officially became a division of Dobson’s main organization, Focus on the Family, but after an administrative separation, the FRC became an independent entity in 1992. Tony Perkins is the current president.
The FRC promotes what it considers to be traditional family values, by advocating and lobbying for socially conservative policies. It opposes and lobbies against LGBT rights, abortion, divorce, embryonic stem-cell research, and pornography. The FRC is affiliated with a 501(c)(4) lobbying PAC known as FRC Action.[2] In 2010, the nonprofit civil rights organization[3][4][5] Southern Poverty Law Center classified the FRC as an anti-gay hate group, a designation which has caused controversy.

The first of Rosamond’s five scenes is the most forceful in demonstrating Swinburne’s debt to troubadour conventions as well as to Pre-Raphaelite stylistic influences. Courtly love preoccupations and the medieval setting overshadow elements of Jacobean revenge tragedy throughout the play. Swinburne’s Rosamond, rather than the historical queen of the Courts of Love, espouses the religion of love and, as a result of her lived creed, is poisoned by Eleanor out of jealousy. The play’s predominantly lyrical psychodramatic vignettes stress highlights of the relationships among the four main characters during the last months of Rosamond’s life. The action begins in spring and ends in late summer, but the only explicit time lapse occurs between the fourth and fifth scenes, when Henry is abroad, subduing the French provinces. In addition to the historical characters, Swinburne creates the courtier Bouchard, the serviceable object of the jealous Queen’s ambivalent affections. But Rosamond is significant primarily for the characterization of its tragic heroine, whose passion for Henry suggests the power of the courtly love influence on young Swinburne. In the “Prelude” to Tristram of Lyonesse (written nine years later), Swinburne catalogues “the sweet shining signs of women’s names / That [38/39] mark the months out and the weeks anew,” which Love “moves in changeless change of seasons through / To fill the days up of his dateless year”

But I that am
Part of the perfect witness for the world,
How good it is; I chosen in God’s eyes
To fill the lean account of under men, The lank and hunger-bitten ugliness
Of half his people . . . I that am, ah yet,
And shall be till the worm has share in me,
Fairer than love or the clean truth of God,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I . . . have roses in my name, and make
All flowers glad to set their colour by. (Tragedies, I, 236- 37)

God has no plague so perilous as love,
And no such honey for the lips of Christ
To purge them clean of gall and sweet for heaven.
It was to fit the naked limbs of love
He wrought and clothed the world with ordinance.
Yea let no wiser woman hear me say
I think that whoso shall unclothe his soul
Of all soft raiment coloured custom weaves,
And choose before the cushion-work of looms
Stones rough at edge to stab the tender side,
Put honour off and patience and respect
And veils and relics of remote esteem
To turn quite bare into large arms of love,[41/42]
God loves him better than those bitter fools
Whom ignorance makes clean, and bloodless use
Keeps colder than their dreams. (Tragedies, I, 238)


Is thy name
Babe? Sweet are babes as flowers that wed the sun,
But man may be not born a babe again,
And less than man may woman. Rosamund
Stands radiant now in royal pride of place
As wife of thine and queen of Lombards–not
Cunimund’s daughter. Hadst thou slain her sire
Shamefully, shame were thine to have sought her hand
And shame were hers to love thee: but he died
Manfully, by thy mightier hand than his
Manfully mastered. War, born blind as fire,
Fed not as fire upon her: many a maid
As royal dies disrobed of all but shame
And even to death burnt up for shame’s sake: she
Lives, by thy grace, imperial.


I am yet alive to question if I live
And wonder what may ever bid me die.
But live I will, being yet not dead with thee,
Father. Thou knowest in Paradise my heart.
I feel thy kisses breathing on my lips,
Whereto the dead cold relic of thy face
Was pressed at bidding of thy slayer last night,
And yet they were not withered: nay, they are red
As blood is–blood but newly spilt–not thine.
How good thou wast and sweet of spirit–how dear,
Father! None lives that knew thee now save one,
And none loves me but thou nor thee but I,
That was till yesternight thy daughter: now
That very name is tainted, and my tongue
Tastes poison as I speak it. There is nought
Left in the range and record of the world
For me that is not poisoned: even my heart
Is all envenomed in me. Death is life,
Or priesthood lies that swears it: then I give
The man my husband and thy homicide
Life, if I slay him–the life he gave thee.

About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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1 Response to Swan Brothers of The Last Judgement

  1. Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:

    I suggested the Ark of the Covenant was kept inside the Catherdral of Notre Dame. Two nights ago I saw a show on cathedrals that outlined the dimensions of the temple of Jerusalem.

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