Some are made modest by great praise, others insolent.
quote by Friedrich Nietzsche
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Forget who is your Father
God is Great
He created you and me so ladies and gentleman
he is the only person to praise and pray
Cause some of us we pray Alan people you pray him
who is him God is the one who created us
so guys help me to Thank him every time i'm sick i call him cause
he is the hiller the killer of diseases in the world
Help me to sing.
How great is our God sing with me how great is our God
all we sing is how great is our God age to age praise his
Great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great
great great great great great great great great great great great
GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD..
Thank you Help me pliz.
poem by Ruvimbo Daisy Matsika
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Sonnet- Life Has Both Joys And Sorrows
Men praise the Rose for exquisite beauty,
And praise the flower too for its great smell;
None care for thorns(changed leaves) doing duty,
Protecting flowers from wild beasts so well.
Men praise the River for quenching their thirst;
Who cares about the clouds that bring the Rain?
Much water comes from melting snows too first;
Most water comes from sea again, again.
Men praise their leaders for the great things done;
Who cares about the Almighty’s great role?
And men call God, the Moon, the Sky, the Sun!
Forgetting God who made earth, pole to pole.
All things God made have purpose good and bad;
Life’s woes alone should not make our hearts sad.
poem by John Celes
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Who I Am
You don't like my hair,
You don't like my dress.
You think I'm wrong;
That you know best.
Think you know better.
Think you got it all.
And right now,
My back's against the wall.
You say I should be here;
But I really should be there.
Come to think of it now,
I should be nowhere.
You say how I should live:
What, when, where, how.
But I'm telling you,
Back off right now.
I was made to praise God,
To live, love, and be free.
God made me:
He made me to be me.
Twasn't to be,
Chasing the stars.
Twasn't to be,
Who you are.
I was made to be me,
With none other alike.
So take a hint
And take a hike.
Made to praise,
Made to live,
Made to love,
Made to give.
Made like no other,
Made by the great I AM.
Just a unique worm,
That's who I am.
So take a deep breath and swallow...
This is who I am.
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
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Praise Ye the Triune God
Praise ye the Father! For his loving-kindness,
Tenderly cares he for his erring children;
Praise him, ye angels, praise him in the heavens,
Praise ye Jehovah!
Praise ye the Spirit! Great is his compassion,
Graciously cares he for his chosen people;
Young men and maidens, ye old men and children,
Praise ye the Savior!
Praise ye the Spirit! Comforter of Israel,
Sent of the Father and the Son to bless us;
Praise ye the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit,
Praise ye the triune God!
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles (1858)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Good Little Girls
Although of native maids the cream,
We're brought up on the English scheme -
The best of all
For great and small
Who modesty adore.
For English girls are good as gold,
Extremely modest (so we're told),
Demurely coy - divinely cold -
And we are that - and more.
To please papa, who argues thus -
All girls should mould themselves on us,
Because we are,
By furlongs far,
The best of all the bunch;
We show ourselves to loud applause
From ten to four without a pause -
Which is an awkward time because
It cuts into our lunch.
Oh, maids of high and low degree,
Whose social code is rather free,
Please look at us and you will see
What good young ladies ought to be!
And as we stand, like clockwork toys,
A lecturer papa employs
To puff and praise
Our modest ways
And guileless character -
Our well-known blush - our downcast eyes -
Our famous look of mild surprise
(Which competition still defies) -
Our celebrated "Sir!!!"
Then all the crowd take down our looks
In pocket memorandum books.
To diagnose,
Our modest pose
The kodaks do their best:
If evidence you would possess
Of what is maiden bashfulness,
You only need a button press -
And WE do all the rest.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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In The Mornin
In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
When I praise Him I keep motivated.
And my heart is elevated!
Shaking trouble makers away.
When I praise Him I know He's my Savior,
Saving me from bad behavior.
And those who bait that hate,
Wont spoil my flavor.
In the mornin'
When I'm yawning at dawn,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
I've got faith so strong.
'Cause I'm blessed to know that God is with me,
All day long!
In the mornin'
When my feet hit the floor,
I will praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I,
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him!
Oh yes I...
Praise Him.
In the mornin'
When I walk out my door,
I praise Him.
Yes I,
Praise Him.
And dedicated
'To my 'Roots'.
I keep re-booted! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Psalm 150
Praise God in his heavenly dwelling;
praise him in his mighty heaven!
Praise him for his mighty works;
praise his unequaled greatness!
Praise him with a blast of the trumpet;
praise him with the lyre and harp!
Praise him with the tambourine and dancing;
praise him with stringed instruments and flutes!
Praise him with a clash of cymbals;
praise him with loud clanging cymbals.
Let everything that lives sing praises to the Lord!
Praise the Lord!!
song performed by by P.O.D.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem: Passover Lamb
Give praise to the Passover Lamb,
the only begotten Son of the Great I Am.
For He willingly humbled Himself
and served as the propitiation for our sins;
His Truth will be revealed at Earth's end,
from having laid down His life as our Friend.
Give praise to the Passover Lamb,
the holy begotten Son of the Great I Am.
Our Lord made the ultimate sacrifice,
donating Himself as the World's sin offering.
Although temporarily buried in death's tomb,
He exited triumphantly from that cryptal womb.
Give praise to the Passover Lamb,
the eternal begotten Son of the Great I Am.
Today He sits at the right hand of the Father,
humbly interceding on our behalf daily!
Now is still the acceptable day of Salvation,
for He paid the cost for our soul's preservation.
Give praise to the Passover Lamb,
the blessed begotten Son of the Great I Am.
Entertaining thoughts of a spiritual breakthrough?
Know that it is not too late to save your soul.
For those who dare, Victory is available to everyone
that receives the sacred gift of the firstborn Son.
Give praise to the Passover Lamb,
the divine begotten Son of the Great I Am.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Heb 1: 1-3,12: 2; Phil 2: 8-9; Rom 3: 19-26,6: 4; 2 Cor 6: 2;
Eph 3: 9; John 1: 18,3: 16; Jam 2: 14-26; 1 Cor 15
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
poem by Joseph James Breunig 3rd
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My Modest Life....[LONG; Personal; Humor]
i grew up in a modest home. the nearby country i did roam.
modest were my mom and dad. four modest siblings i also had.
geneva was a modest town. at graduation i wore a modest cap and gown.
(ok….my cap had a gold tassel. about that, please don't give me a hassle.)
then i modestly went to cornell; that i'd quit three years later who could tell?
i modestly quit my church beliefs. that there's no hell, for me i'm betting.
i became a conscientious objector and worked two years in hospital setting.
i roomed in a modest home. by foot, bike, and bus i did roam.
then i shared an apartment with brother don. i did modest jobs for modest wages.
my general appearance i think was plain. i was modest, ….not vain.
except for occasional, mild 'depression', it seemed i had not a care.
then (past twenty-five years old) i sought a partner from the sex pool more fair.
first wife (pam) was not so modest…..if by modest one means plain.
she gave birth to our modest daughter (shannon) ....... after a short labor but lots of pain.
pam and i shared five modest homes, and we had a modest dog.
we had a modest divorce....though nine years together we did log.
then i had modest apartments and two modest girlfriends, and kept my modest postal job.
then i married and divorced wife two (debbie) , .....she was at times irrational and a slob.
my very modest yugo i replaced with a honda, the last of my modest cars.
the end of marriage to third wife (donna) i blame (in part) on her emotional lifetime scars.
in 2004 i retired 'early'…. as post office chose to downsize.
at the time i lived in modest comfort.... in a senior citizen highrise.
i modestly pursued volunteer work as i'd done on and off since '86.
with no ties binding me i moved to hometown geneva; some would call it 'move to the sticks'.
i spent a modest few months in cousin's apartment. eye to eye we did not see, .......
so i got my own modest place near college fieldhouse, and walked indoor track for a modest fee.
i found a modest café, 'flour petal', and many modest hours there i enjoyed.
i wrote poems, and........with thoughts of a new partner i no longer toyed.
i met a modest new friend angel. he, it turned out, had some 'issues'.
i made a modest bed of banana boxes, and blew my nose on toilet tissues.
i developed mild hypertension. it seems in control now without pills.
i walked roads and sidewalks in modest shoes, wore modest clothes with no frills.
then a former postal customer, and old guy, henry, 'said': ‘find a geneva woman on the internet'.
he jarred me into action, and that's how my present wife i 'met'.
after a month of emails we met in ithaca (new york state) , though she lived on the west coast.
did she find me irresistable? i don't know, ......and i shall not boast.
she lured me to join her, in san carlos, in her new, not-so-modest-but-small house.
my wife also has a small though not-so-modest car, a prius, which can be quiet as a mouse.
i flew here on a trial basis but stayed to share our lives together.
i'm still a modest guy, trying not to be spoiled by the mild san francisco bay area weather.
i've had a modest ponytail, and i'm modest about my child's success.
but i've eaten a few immodest restaurant meals. they weren't my idea......as you might guess.
i'd say our tv set's not modest, but it's only used to watch library flicks.
(by 'modest' i mean plain or simple; with luxury i seldom mix.)
but i'm not COMPLETELY modest when it comes to my self-image. [ I THINK I'M REALLY GREAT! ]
i have lots of common sense, and......i'm very seldom ever late.
(Jan. and Aug.2011)
poem by Bri Edwards
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Psalm 117
May all the Peoples praise you
May all the world praise you
For great is your mercy and kindness
You dwell in the beauty of holiness
And forever more and a day
All those around the throne shall say
Glory and majesty and praise to our King
For all eternity your praises we'll sing
poem by Frank McEleny
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Men sometimes feel injured by praise because it assigns a limit to their merit; few people are modest enough not to take offense that one appreciates them.
quote by Marquis De Vauvenargues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm 150
v.1,2,6
C. M.
A song of praise.
In God's own house pronounce his praise,
His grace he there reveals;
To heav'n your joy and wonder raise,
For there his glory dwells.
Let all your sacred passions move,
While you rehearse his deeds;
But the great work of saving love
Your highest praise exceeds.
All that have motion, life, and breath,
Proclaim your Maker blest;
Yet, when my voice expires in death,
My soul shall praise him best.
poem by Isaac Watts
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You've Made Me Glad/Who Is Like The Lord
You put a song in my heart rythm in my step
Praise as my garment for the spirit of heaviness
Beauty for ashes joy for my pain
Love overwhelming causes me to say
(Chorus)
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
Lord I will rejoice because You have
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
You've made me glad
Lord I will rejoice because You have made me glad
So I will lift my hands and lift my voice
The way I feel I have no choice
You made me glad
I'm gonna dannce and sing and shout for joy
And praise Your name I will rejoice
You made me glad
Lord we declare
Who can compare
Who would even dare
Cause there is no one like You
song performed by by Israel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Praise, My Soul, the King of Heaven
Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet Thy tribute bring!
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing?
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise the everlasting King!
Praise Him for His grace and favour,
To our fathers in distress!
Praise Him still the same for ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless!
Praise Him! praise Him!
Glorious in His faithfulness!
Father-like, He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows.
In His hands He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes,
Praise Him! praise Him!
Widely as His mercy flows!
Frail as summer's flower we flourish:
Blows the wind, and it is gone.
But while mortals rise and perish,
God endures unchanging on.
Praise Him, Praise Him,
Praise the high eternal One!
Angels, help us to adore Him;
Ye behold Him face to face:
Sun and moon, bow down before Him;
Dwellers all in time and space,
Praise Him! praise Him!
Praise with us the God of grace!
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Praise the Lord, God's Glories Show
Praise the Lord, God’s glories show, Alleluia!
Saints within God’s courts below, Alleluia!
Angels round the throne above, Alleluia!
All that see and share God’s love, Alleluia!
Earth to heaven and heaven to earth, Alleluia!
Tell the wonders, sing God’s worth, Alleluia!
Age to age and shore to shore, Alleluia!
Praise God, praise forevermore! Alleluia!
Praise the Lord, great mercies trace, Alleluia!
Praise His providence and grace, Alleluia!
All that God for us has done, Alleluia!
All God sends us through the Son. Alleluia!
Strings and voices, hands and hearts, Alleluia!
In the concert bear your parts, Alleluia!
All that breathe, your Lord adore, Alleluia!
Praise Him, praise Him evermore!
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Hymn To God's Power
Hail! Power Divine, who by thy sole command,
From the dark empty space,
Made the broad sea and solid land
Smile with a heavenly grace.
Made the high mountain and firm rock,
Where bleating cattle stray;
And the strong, stately, spreading oak,
That intercepts the day.
The rolling planets thou madest move,
By thy effective will;
And the revolving globes above
Their destined cours fulfil.
His mighty power, ye thunders, praise,
As through the heavens ye roll;
And his great name, ye lightnings, blaze,
Unto the distant pole.
Ye seas, in your eternal roar,
His sacred praise proclaim;
While the inactive sluggish shore
Re-echoes to the same.
Ye howling winds, howl out his praise,
And make the forests bow;
While through the air, the earth, and seas,
His solemn praise ye blow.
O yon high harmonious spheres,
Your powerful mover sing;
To him your circling course that steers,
Your tuneful praises bring.
Ungrateful mortals, catch the sound,
And in your numerous lays,
To all the listening world around,
The God of nature praise.
poem by James Thomson
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All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye nations, praise the Lord,
All ye lands your voices raise;
Heaven and earth with loud accord,
Praise the Lord, for ever praise.
For his truth and mercy stand,
Past, and present, and to be,
Like the years of his right hand,
Like his own eternity.
Praise Him, ye who know his love;
Praise Him from the depth beneath;
Praise Him in the heights above;
Praise your Maker, all that breathe.
poem by James Montgomery
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People hear that and say I'm being modest, but I am not a modest person, but I have to be truthful about what I'm doing and what I'm doing is channeling.
quote by Morgan Freeman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Psalm CL.
Praise ye the Lord, your Songs address
To praise His Holynes:
O praise Him in His pow'rs extent,
Who rules the firmament.
Praise Him for all His acts of might,
Our wonder which invite:
In praises due His greatness tell,
Which all things doth excell.
Praise Him with Trumpets lofty sound,
With Cornets shake the ground:
His praise the Psaltery inspire,
With the melodious Lyre.
Praise him with Timbrells, and advance
His honour in the Dance.
Praise Him with Organs, Violls, Flutes,
And the well-stringed Lutes.
With Cymbals loud Him magnify,
Praise Him on Cymbals high:
Let every creature, that hath breath,
His Maker praise till death.
poem by Henry King
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Today... 'The Earnest of our inheritance
The payment has been made
and the price has been paid.
My salvation is sealed
by the Gospel revealed.
For the Truth has been heard
and I believed The Word.
Redemptions great story
The praise of His Glory.
By God's great compassion
a purchased possession.
The Spirit of promise
has now guaranteed this.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)