We are like ignorant shepherds living on a site where great civilizations once flourished. The shepherds play with the fragments that pop up to the surface, having no notion of the beautiful structures of which they were once a part.
quote by Allan Bloom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Theatre Of The Absurd
All of us are born ignorant and some
Of us remain that way I’m sad to say.
The knowledgeable flourish and become
The shepherds, the dumb just piddle away
Their lives like sheep in a grassy pasture.
The ignorance in our society
Exists through our own design I am sure
To guarantee an apt propriety.
Without the sheep there can be no shepherds
Therefore a symbiotic relation
Plays in the theater of the absurd.
There's no appropriate explanation.
Don’t even attempt to state a notion.
Our roles are predetermined one by one.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Alciphron and Leucippe
An ancient chestnut’s blossoms threw
Their heavy odour over two:
Leucippe, it is said, was one;
The other, then, was Alciphron.
‘Come, come! why should we stand beneath?’
This hollow tree’s unwholesome breath?’
Said Alciphron, ‘here’s not a blade
Of grass or moss, and scanty shade.
Come; it is just the hour to rove
In the lone dingle shepherds love;
There, straight and tall, the hazel twig
Divides the crookàed rock-held fig,
O’er the blue pebbles where the rill
In winter runs and may run still.
Come then, while fresh and calm the air,
And while the shepherds are not there.’
Leucippe. But I would rather go when they
Sit round about and sing and play.
Then why so hurry me? for you
Like play and song, and shepherds too.
Alciphron. I like the shepherds very well,
And song and play, as you can tell.
But there is play, I sadly fear,
And song I would not have you hear.
Leucippe. What can it be? What can it be?
Alciphron. To you may none of them repeat
The play that you have play’d with me,
The song that made your bosom beat.
Leucippe. Don’t keep your arm about my waist.
Alciphron. Might you not stumble?
Leucippe. Well then, do.
But why are we in all this haste?
Alciphron. To sing.
Leucippe. Alas! and not play too?
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Nymphs And Shepherds
Nymphs and shepherds, come away.
In this grove let's sport and play,
For this is Flora's holiday,
Sacred to ease and happy love,
To dancing, to music and to poetry;
Your flocks may now securely rest
Whilst you express your jollity.
Nymphs and shepherds, come away.
poem by Thomas Shadwell
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The Stranger's Song
(As sung by Mr. Charles Charrington in the play of "The Three Wayfarers")
O MY trade it is the rarest one,
Simple shepherds all--
My trade is a sight to see;
For my customers I tie, and take 'em up on high,
And waft 'em to a far countree!
My tools are but common ones,
Simple shepherds all--
My tools are no sight to see:
A little hempen string, and a post whereon to swing,
Are implements enough for me!
To-morrow is my working day,
Simple shepherds all--
To-morrow is a working day for me:
For the farmer's sheep is slain, and the lad who did it ta'en,
And on his soul may God ha' mer-cy!
poem by Thomas Hardy
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Red sky at night is a shepherds delight, red sky in the morning is a shepherds warning.
Sonnet: God's Warning to Shepherds!
‘My sheep lie scattered and not tended well.
I'll find new shepherds who will do this job;
To ones who failed their duty, ‘twill be hell;
From me, my sheep, no one can ever rob! '
‘Disaster to shepherds who don't take care
Of my loved sheep, who leave my pastures green;
I'll get new shepherds, fearless and will dare,
Preventing sheep, from getting lost from scene! '
‘In prophets, priests, now Godlessness prevails;
They do not preach to people what's God-say;
They tell own versions and their made-up tales,
Deluding people, leading sheep astray! '
‘So, prophesy what comes from Yahweh's mouth.'
The Lord declares, ‘Just speak the Gospel's truth! '
poem by John Celes
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What Child Is This?
What child is this, who laid to rest
on Mary's lap is sleeping?
whom angels greet with anthems sweet
while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Why lies He in such mean state
where ox and and ass are feeding?
good christian, fear for sinners here
the silent word is pleading
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Nails, spear, shall, pierce him through
the cross be bome, for me, for you
hail, hail, the world made flesh
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
So bring him incense, gold and myrrh
come peasant, King to own him
the King of Kings salvation brings
let loving hearts enthrone him
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
Raise, raise, the song on high
the Virgin sings her llullaby
joy, joy for Christ is born
the babe, the son of Mary
this, this is Christ the King
whom shepherds guard and angels sing
haste, haste to bring him laud
the babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Catholic Priesthood and ‘Year of the Priests’
‘The sheep are calling;
The flocks are swelling;
Good shepherds are a dearth,
Upon the mighty earth! ’
All sheep need good shepherds;
Sans shepherds good, they are mere herds,
That cannot find the pastures green,
With grass that’s fit on global scene.
Good shepherds know each sheep by name;
They do not work for pay or fame;
They know the wolf’s, many a game;
Their staff protects the sheep that’s lame!
Priests are the good shepherds of God;
They woo the souls away from rod;
They serve by being celibate,
And show humanity, God’s Gate.
They say the Holy Mass each day;
They preach and fast, fervently pray;
They drive the devils out, away,
Suffer for Jesus, come what may!
They change bread to body of Christ;
They change the wine to blood of Christ;
They forgive sins like Jesus Lord;
They tell the world the Divine Word.
Priesthood is one of sacraments;
Priests know the Old, New Testaments;
Their work is worth more than all gold;
They bring more souls unto God’s fold!
This is the ‘Year of Catholic priest’.
Lord Jesus waits with His great Feast;
Happy are souls, even the least;
God saves all sinners from the Beast.
Priests take vows for a divine role –
To lead souls to God’s Abode – goal.
Those worldly ones are merely fools!
God chooses priests to be pure souls.
‘Priesthood is passion great for Christ –
The profession that’s one highest;
The goal of men who are wisest –
Who live for Jesus’ sake, diest.’
Dedicated to all Catholic Priests world-over,
On behalf of ‘Holy Family Church Parish, Perundurai, TN, India.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 28-6-2009
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: The Flocks Need More Shepherds
Shepherds are turning scarcer, day by day!
Fragmented flocks have lesser sheep in fold;
With many lost, many sheep go astray;
Devils on rampage trouble, young and old.
Meadows have lesser grass that's succulent;
More sheep want better grass, water to drink;
The climes these days are turning turbulent;
The few shepherds are old-aged, on death's brink!
Shepherdless stay some flocks for many days;
They do not know the shepherd or his call!
The shepherd does not know his sheep by face;
From wolves' attack, there is no staff to stall!
Yet, God will find the shepherds in strange ways;
All righteous find their way through earthly maze!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-07-12
poem by John Celes
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Unto You This Night
On a night so long ago
By the light of one bright star
Two weary travelers far from galilee
Took refuge in a stable
Where a little child was born
To bring the gift of love to you and me
When the angels told the shepherds of his birth
There came a great rejoicing on the earth
Chorus:
And they sang glory to God in the highest
Dawning that first christmas morn
Peace on earth and ridings of great joy
For unto you this night a child is born
And, lo, these many years since then
That ancient star still guides us
And now again our christmas voices ring
Blessed we are and safe at home
With loved ones her beside us
And in the still and silent night we sing
How the angels told the shepherds of his birth
And there came a great rejoicing on the earth
Repeat chorus:
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shepherds in Judea
Oh, the Shepherds in Judea,
They are pacing to and fro.
For the air grows chill at twilight
And the weanling lambs are slow!
Leave, O lambs, the dripping sedges, quit the bramble and the brier,
Leave the fields of barley stubble, for we light the watching fire;
Twinkling fires across the twilight, and a bitter watch to keep,
Lest the prowlers come a-thieving where the flocks unguarded sleep.
Oh, the Shepherds in Judea,
They are singing soft and low—
Song the blessed angels taught them
All the centuries ago!
There was never roof to hide them, there were never walls to bind;
Stark they lie beneath the star-beams, whom the blessed angels find,
With the huddled flocks upstarting, wondering if they hear aright.
While the Kings come riding, riding, solemn shadows in the night.
Oh, the Shepherds in Judea,
They are thinking, as they go,
Of the light that broke their watching
On the hillside in the snow!—
Scattered snow along the hillside, white as springtime fleeces are,
With the whiter wings above them and the glory-streaming star—
Guiding-star across the housetops; never fear the Shepherds felt
Till they found the Babe in manger where the kindly cattle knelt.
Oh, the Shepherds in Judea!—
Do you think the Shepherds know
How the whole round earth is brightened
In the ruddy Christmas glow?
How the sighs are lost in laughter, and the laughter brings the tears,
As the thoughts of men go seeking back across the darkling years
Till they find the wayside stable that the star-led Wise Men found,
With the Shepherds, mute, adoring, and the glory shining round!
poem by Mary Austin
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Birth Of Jesus (Bible Poems For Children)
A decree went out from Caesar of Rome,
All the people, return to your home.
Joseph a carpenter, Mary his wife,
She was to give birth, soon her plight.
Everyone to be taxed, was key,
All must return to their city.
The angel Gabriel, in his own say,
Told Mary, The son of God is on his way.
Jesus, was to be his name,
He will receive eternal fame.
Arriving in Bethelhem, full the town,
No place for Mary to lie down.
To the stables, she went to pray,
Washing all her doubts away.
They were in the fields, nearby,
Shepherds looked to the skies.
An angel came, to them at night,
Go to Bethelhem, see his might.
The son of God, in a manager lay,
He will wash your sins away.
The shepherds were first, to see him
there,
Lying in a manager without a care.
A beautiful baby in a manager lay,
The son of God was born that day.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Risen One (Bible Poems for Children)
A decree went out from Caesar of Rome,
All the people, return to your home.
Joseph a carpenter, Mary his wife,
She was to give birth, soon her plight.
Everyone to be taxed, was key,
All must return to their city.
The angel Gabriel, in his own say,
Told Mary, The son of God is on his way.
Jesus, was to be his name,
He will receive eternal fame.
Arriving in Bethelhem, full the town,
No place for Mary to lie down.
To the stables, she went to pray,
Washing all her doubts away.
They were in the fields, nearby,
Shepherds looked to the skies.
An angel came, to them at night,
Go to Bethelhem, see his might.
The son of God, in a manager lay,
He will wash your sins away.
The shepherds were first, to see him
there,
Lying in a manager without a care.
A beautiful baby in a manager lay,
The son of God was born that day.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Child Is This?
(William C. Dix/16th Century English Melody)
What child is this who lay to rest
On Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, Haste, to bring him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh
Come peasant, king to own Him
The King of Kings salvation brings
Let loving enthrone Him
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, Haste, to bring him laud
The Babe, the Son of Mary
The Babe, the Son of Mary
song performed by by Jo Dee Messina
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Shepherd's Wife's Song
Ah, what is love? It is a pretty thing,
As sweet unto a shepherd as a king,
And sweeter, too:
For kings have cares that wait upon a crown,
And cares can make the sweetest love to frown:
Ah then, ah then,
If country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?
His flocks are folded; he comes home at night
As merry as a king in his delight,
And merrier, too:
For kings bethink them what the state require,
Where shepherds, careless, carol by the fire:
He kisseth first, then sits at blithe to eat
His cream and curds, as doth a king his meat,
And blither, too:
For kings have often fears when they do sup,
Where shepherds dread no poison in their cup:
To bed he goes, as wanton then, I ween,
As is a king in dalliance with a queen;
More wanton, too:
For kings have many griefs, affects to move,
Where shepherds have no greater grief than love:
Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound
As doth the king upon his bed of down;
More sounder, too:
For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill,
Where weary shepherds lie and snort their fill:
Thus, with his wife, he spends the year as blithe
As doth the king at every tide or sithe,
And blither, too:
For kings have wars and broils to take in hand,
Where shepherds laugh and love upon the land:
Ah then, ah then,
Since country loves such sweet desires do gain,
What lady would not love a shepherd swain?
poem by Robert Greene
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Child Is This?
What child is this, who, laid to rest
On Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary
The babe, the son of Mary
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God warns all Shepherds (Jer 23: 1-6)
‘Disaster waits for shepherds who
Shall lose or scatter any sheep
Belonging to my pasture, fold,
declares Lord Yahweh, rather cold.’
‘My flock, you scattered, and drove them;
You didn’t take care of them as told;
I’ll punish you for your misdeeds’ –
Thus speaks the Lord about shepherds.
‘I’ll bring the remnant of my flock
from all the countries, whence they’ve gone,
back to their folds, to be fruitful,
increasing in their numbers fast.’
‘I’ll raise new shepherds for them soon,
to pasture them without a fear;
No one shall ev’r be lost again’ –
Declares Yahweh, the God of all.
‘The days are coming, ’ says the Lord,
‘I’ll raise a David’s upright branch;
He’ll reign as king, remaining wise,
And doing what is just, upright.’
‘Judah will triumph, in his days;
Israel will live in safety then;
He will be called by just this name’ –
‘Yahweh-Is-Our-Saving-Justice’.
Copyr ight by Dr John Celes 7-19-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What Child Is This
(Traditional)
What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary!
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrrh, come peasant, king to own Him,
The King of kings, salvation brings, let loving hearts enthrone Him.
Raise, raise the song on high, the Virgin sings her lullaby:
Joy, joy, for Christ is born, the Babe, the Son of Mary!
What child is this, who, laid to rest, on Mary's lap, is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet, while shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary!
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On The Final Submission Of The Tyrolese
IT was a 'moral' end for which they fought;
Else how, when mighty Thrones were put to shame,
Could they, poor Shepherds, have preserved an aim,
A resolution, or enlivening thought?
Nor hath that moral good been 'vainly' sought;
For in their magnanimity and fame
Powers have they left, an impulse, and a claim
Which neither can be overturned nor bought.
Sleep, Warriors, sleep! among your hills repose!
We know that ye, beneath the stern control
Of awful prudence, keep the unvanquished soul:
And when, impatient of her guilt and woes,
Europe breaks forth; then, Shepherds! shall ye rise
For perfect triumph o'er your Enemies.
poem by William Wordsworth
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What Child Is This
What child is this who laid to rest
On Mary's lap is sleeping
Whom angels greet with anthem sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
Why lies he in such mean estate
Where ox and ass are feeding
Good Christian fear, for sinners here
The silent Word is pleading
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepards guard and angels sing
Haste,haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
So bring Him incense, gold, and myrh
Come peasant king to own Him
The King of Kings, salvation brings
Let loving hearts enthrone Him
This is Christ the Lord
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing
Haste, haste to bring him laud
The babe, the son of Mary
song performed by by Jessica Simpson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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