Once more unto the Tweeps...

Once in a while I like to have a little fun with literature as can be seen in my blogpost in tribute to the genius of Lewis Carroll: A Web 2.0 Wonderland. For those who enjoyed such frivolous wordplay, here is a famous speech from one of William Shakespeare's plays, liberally peppered with hyperlinks to just a few of my favourite Twitter pals - some of those who have contributed significantly to my Personal Learning Network over the last year or so. These are all Tweeps worth following if you have any interest in education or learning technology. I have taken a lot of poetic licence with it. but if your name/link is not in this collection, please don't take up arms against me. Be nobler in the mind. Either your name didn't quite fit in to the scan (I can only take so many liberties), or I may yet include you in a future confection.... I hope you enjoy reading this and perhaps find a few new Tweeps to follow.

Once Moreland unto the breach, dear friends, once Moore;
Or Kruse the Hall up with our English dead.
In peace there's Domingo becomes a man,
As Michie stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war Bozarth our ears,
Then imitate the Aspin of the tiger;
Disguise fair nature with Hart-favour'd rage;
Then lend the eye a Terrell aspect;
Let Clay through the portage of the head
Like the brass Cronin; let the Bray o'erwhelm it
As fearfully as doth a Gallen rock
O'erhang and Jakob his confounded base,
Smithers with the wild and wasteful ocean.
Now set the teeth and stretch the Kuchel wide,
Hold hard the Baird and bend up every spirit
To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.
Whose blood is Finch from fathers of war-proof!
Frasers that, like so many Alexanders,
Have in these parts from Vaughan till even fought
And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:
DisConnor not your mothers; now attest
That those whom you call'd fathers did Barrett you.
Be Couros now to men of Grosseck blood,
And teach them how to Winn. And you, good Yeomans,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The Mitchell of your pasture; Lewis swear
That you are worth your Rubin; which I doubt not;
For there is none of you Levine and base,
That hath not noble Costa in your eyes.
I see you Dan like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game's a Flynn:
Folley your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry 'God for Kelly, England, and Saint George!'


Henry V, Act III.


Image source by Raul P


Once more unto the Tweeps... by Steve Wheeler is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.