My favourite word

You may recall in my post about frankincense that I mentioned the word Septuagesima, which is the third Sunday before the beginning of Lent (originally the period of 70 days from then until the Saturday in Easter week), derived from the Latin septuāgēsimus (seventieth). 

But this coming Sunday, the last Sunday before the beginning of Lent, has an even cooler-sounding name, which happens to be my favourite word (well, actually, it's in a tie with "mellifluous").

Quinquagesima. 

Don't you just love the sound of it? kwinkwa JESSA muh.

Its etymology follows the same pattern as Septuagesima's (and the intervening... you guessed it... Sexagesima): post-classical Latin quinquagesima fiftieth day (counting inclusively) before Easter, short for Quinquagesima dies (fiftieth day), the feminine of classical Latin quīnquāgēsimus (fiftieth).

Another related word I love the sound of is "quinquereme" (from rēmus oar). The OED has this to say about quinqueremes:

An ancient Greek or Roman galley rowed by oarsmen arranged in groups of five, perhaps with three banks of oars, one above the other, the top two each pulled by a pair of men, the bottom by one. There is continuing debate as to the precise significance of the numerical prefix. Some authorities believe that it refers to a ship having five banks of oars, but in view of the instability of such a design this is unlikely.

I cannot think of quinqueremes (admittedly not something I do often!) without remembering this evocative poem I learned and loved as a child. How many of you also know this poem from your schooldays?

Cargoes
John Masefield

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amethysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rails, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.