Never Mind
My Country, though rude yet, and wild, be thy nature,
This alone our proud love should beget and command:
There's noon in thy broad breast for Manhood's full stature,
And honest Endeavour's a lord in the land.
And though much of thy bounty, by aliens in feeling
Has been made upon heads the least worthy to fall,
Their reign is nigh past, and the wrong is fast healing,
And they wide arms encircle a home for us all.
And though pygmies high placed in our councils yet fool us,
In our woods there's a Giant upgrowing the while -
The Spirit of Liberty destined to rule us,
And cheer on the world from the great Austral Isle!
poem by Charles Harpur
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Whose Country Is This?
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of snakes;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of many waters;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of thieves! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of oil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of earthquakes!
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of lovers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of volcanoes!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful flowers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hansome men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of beautiful women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of roses;
Whose country is this?
it is a land ruled only by men;
Whose country is this?
It is a land without rainfall;
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by a woman;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of corruption!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pirates! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land ruled by law;
Whose country is this?
It is a land controlled by rebels!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ice;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant women;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of the sins of Sodom and Gomorrah!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of singers;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of troubles;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of war! !
Whose country is this?
It is a land with the biggest cemetery in the wolrd!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of desert;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of trees;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pregnant teenagers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of timber;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of hatred;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of love;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of care;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of peace;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of smokers!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of businesses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of harlots;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of wise people;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of idiots!
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of gold;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of cocoa;
Whose country is this?
It is a alnd full of crabs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of evil;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of rainfalls;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of ants;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of horses;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of pigs;
Whose country is this?
It is a land full of statues;
Whose country is this?
it is a land full of birds;
And so on, and so forth!
Because nature had made them so as we see them around us,
But the wise and fool live together on this earth.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bound for the Lord-Knows-Where
'Where are you going with your horse and bike,
And the townsfolk still at rest?
Where are you going, with your swag and pack,
And the night still in the West?
Your clothes are worn, and your cheques are gone,
But your eyes are free from care?”
“We’re bushmen down for a spree in town,
And we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap—we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There are great dark scrubs in the Lord-knows-where,
Where they fight it out alone,
There are wide wide plains in the Lord-knows-where,
Where a man’s soul is his own.
There is healthy work, there is healthy rest,
There is peace from self-torture there,
And the glorious freedom from paltriness!
And they’re bound for the Lord-knows-where.)
“Now, where are you going in your Sunday suit,
And a bag for your second best?
Now where are you going with your chest of tools,
And the old togs in the chest?
With your six clean shirts and a pound of ‘weed’,
And enough for a third-class fare?”
“Oh! I’ll be afloat by the very next boat,
And I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap—I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There are wide wide seas to the Lord-knows-where,
Where a man might have a spell,
The things turn up in the Lord-knows-where that
We waited for too well.
There’s a stranger land in the Lord-knows-where,
And a show for the stranger there.
There is war and quake more work to make,
And he’s bound for the Lord-knows-where.)
“Now where are you going with your Gladstone bag,
With your shirt-case and valise?
Now where are you going with your cap and shoes,
And your looks of joyful peace?
Now where are you going with your money belts,
And your drafts on the first bank there?”
“’We have made a hit,’ or ‘we’ve made a bit,’
And we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old chap—we’re bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There are sinful ports in the Lord-knows-where,
There are marvellous sights to see,
There are high old games in the Lord-knows-where,
That were known to you and me.
There is love and music, and life and light from
The Heads to “Lester” Square,
There is more than space for their high young hearts
There is safety or danger there,
And they’ll come back wild, or they’ll come back tamed
When they’ve been to the Lord-knows-where.)
“Now where am I going with my whisky flask,
And with little else beside?
Now where am I going with my second shirt,
To wear while the first is dried?
I have marred my name, and I’ve lost my fame,
But my hope’s in good repair.
There are lies about, there are warrants out—
And I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where,
Old Chap—and I’m bound for the Lord-knows-where.”
(There’s a rise and fall of the sloping decks,
That is good for a soul in pain;
There’s the drowsy rest on the sunlight sea
Till your strength comes back again.
Oh, the wild mad spirit is hypnotized,
And nerves are tranquil there,
And the past is hushed in forgetfulness,
On the road to the Lord-knows-where.)
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord
Oh Lord
Give us strength
For the burdens that we bear.
The false smiles that we wear,
To keep our heads up high.
Still looking to the sky.
When I'm crushed,
Skin and bone.
The world is hushed.
I'm all alone.
In the alley
On my knees.
Oh Lord
Whisper to me
Please.
Oh Lord
I have done so much wrong.
I have sang my last song.
Can you send
Your Holy Spirit, man.
demons surround me.
And friends all ran.
Only you
Can soften up
This heart of stone.
And I
Could never reach you on the phone.
Oh Lord
Give me the guts
To carry on.
We all stand in the dark.
Where your light once shone.
The devil's on my shoulder,
My clutching hands are bleeding.
The world is getting colder.
It's your healing touch I'm needing.
Oh Lord
Heaven help us all.
Bang Bang
The mighty fall.
We skipped,
And now we crawl.
And weep.
Take us home Lord,
When we awaken
From this sleep.
poem by Kevin East
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bergen
As thou sittest there
Skerry-bound and fair,
Mountains high around and ocean's deep before thee,
On thee casts her spell
Saga
, that shall tell
Once again the wonders of our land.
Honor is thy due,
'Bergen never new,'
Ancient and unaging as thy Holberg's humor;
Once kings sought thine aid,-
Mighty now in trade,-
First to fly the flag of liberty.
Oft in proud array,
As a sunshine-day
Breaks forth from thy rain and fog wind-driven,
Thou didst come with men
Or great deeds again,
When the clouds were darkest o'er our land.
Thy soul was the ground,
Wit-enriched and sound,
Whence there sprang stout thoughts to make our country's harvest,
Whence our arts exist,
In their birth-hour kissed
By thy nature, somber, large, and strong.
In thy mountain-hall
Learned our painter,
Dahl
;
Wand'ring on thy strands our poet dreamed,
Welhaven
;
All thy morning's gold
Ole Bull
ensouled,
Greeted on thy bay by all the world.
With thy sea-wide sway
Thou hast might for aye,
Fjords of blue convey thy life-blood through our country.
Norway's spirit thou
Dost with joy endow,-
Great thy past, no less thy future great.
poem by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Bondman
Feebly the bondman toiled,
Sadly he wept-
Then to his wretched cot
Mournfully crept;
How doth his free-born soul
Pine 'neath his chain!
Slavery! Slavery!
Dark is thy reign.
Long ere the break of day,
Roused from repose,
Wearily toiling
Till after its close-
Praying for freedom,
He spends his last breath:
Liberty! Liberty!
Give me or death.
When, when, O Lord! will right
Triumph o'er wrong?
Tyrants oppress the weak,
O Lord! how long?
Hark! hark! a peal resounds
From shore to shore-
Tyranny! Tyranny!
Thy reign is o'er.
E'en now the morning
Gleams from the East-
Despots are feeling
Their triumph is past-
Strong hearts are answering
To freedom's loud call-
Liberty! Liberty!
Full and for all.
poem by Anonymous Americas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Arms! (II)
Now let the cry, ``To Arms! To Arms!''
Go ringing round the world;
And swift a wave-wide Empire swarms
Round Battleflag unfurled!
Wherever glitters Britain's might,
Or Britain's banner flies,
Leap up mailed myriads with the light
Of manhood in their eyes;
Calling from farmstead, mart, and strand,
``We come! And we! And we!
That British steel may hold the land,
And British keels the sea!''
From English hamlet, Irish hill,
Welsh hearths, and Scottish byres,
They throng to show that they are still
Sons worthy of their sires:
That what these did, we still can do,
That what they were, we are,
Whose fathers fought at Waterloo,
And died at Trafalgar!
Shoulder to shoulder see them stand,
Wherever menace be,
To guard the lordship of the land
And the Trident of the sea.
Nor in the parent Isle alone
Spring squadrons from the ground;
Canadian shore and Austral zone
With kindred cry resound:
``From shimmering plain and snow-fed stream,
Across the deep we come,
Seeing the British bayonets gleam,
Hearing the British drum.
Foot in the stirrup, hilt in hand,
Free men, to keep men free,
All, all will help to hold the land
While England guards the sea!''
Comrades in arms, from every shore
Where thundereth the main,
On to the front they press and pour
To face the rifles' rain;
To force the foe from covert crag,
And chase them till they fall,
Then plant for ever England's Flag
Upon the rebel wall!
What! Wrench the Sceptre from her hand,
And bid her bow the knee!
Not while her Yeomen guard the land,
And her ironclads the sea!
poem by Alfred Austin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Shadows Before
"Like clouds o'er the South are the nations who reign
On fair islands that we would command;
But clouds that are darker and denser than these
Have sailed from an Isle in the Northern Seas
And rest on our Southern Land.
Low in dust is our Goddess of Liberty hurled
At our feet, and the time is at hand,
When we, the proud sons of the southern world,
Beneath a proud banner of freedom unfurled
And true to each other shall stand.
If e'er in the ranks of the Right we advance;
Though our enemies come like a flood,
We'll meet them like lions, aroused from our trance,
And show that a streak of the Olden Romance
Still runs in our commonplace blood.
poem by Henry Lawson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Born Free
This is not, this is not,
Not, the Country, I once knew,
Where each day we strived for better.
Where World's freedom quickly grew,
This is not my dearest Country,
One where heads were held so high,
And for Liberty and Justice,
We were all willing to die.
Class division, nonexistent,
We were all just citizens,
Democratic, coexistence,
And a helping hand to lend.
We must now get back our courage,
No to handouts, flabbiness,
You cannot keep up a country,
Just by doing less and less.
Hear ye, hear ye, small and mighty,
This is now a wake up call,
We must reconstruct this Country,
For the World and for us All,
We are all together born free,
Liberty, must never fall.
poem by Sandra Feldman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Lord Reigns
The Lord Reigns from on High, upon His throne above the sky,
And from His throne in majesty, He rules the world that we see.
He ruled the world in ages past, with a rule that will forever last.
For Christ will reign for Eternity, as all nations on earth will see.
His uplifted hand still is raised, though by all, He is not praised.
When His Wrath begins to flow, every nation on earth will know,
That Christ is the sustainer of, everything in the heavens above,
And of all upon the earth below, everything we’ve come to know.
One thing you can not dismiss, that He reigns in Righteousness,
Indeed, Holiness is found in Him, that reigns above all earthly sin.
When He reigns upon the earth, all sin and iniquity will be purged.
At that time His righteous decree, will cover earth from sea to sea.
Today Christ reigns in the heart, of every believer who’s set apart,
Set apart by The Lord above, cleansed from sin and filled with love.
Today we reign in Christ’s Spirit, sharing Truth with all who hear it,
Knowing when Christ does come, we will reign with God’s own Son.
You can also reign with Christ, and receive from Him Eternal Life,
If you receive Him in your heart, you, in His Reign, will have a part.
If you choose to dismiss The Lord, you, by Jesus, won’t be ignored,
And from His Reign of Righteousness, you will surely be dismissed.
(Copyright ©09/2005)
The Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers in New England
"Look now abroad--another race has fill'd
Those populous borders--wide the wood recedes,
And town shoots up, and fertile realms are till'd;
The land is full of harvests and green meads."--BRYANT
The breaking waves dash'd high
On a stern and rock-bound coast,
And the woods against a stormy sky
Their giant branches toss'd;
And the heavy night hung dark,
The hills and waters o'er,
When a band of exiles moor'd their bark
On the wild New England shore.
Not as the conqueror comes,
They, the true-hearted, came;
Not with the roll of the stirring drums,
And the trumpet that sings of fame;
Not as the flying come,
In silence and in fear;--
They shook the depths of the desert gloom
With their hymns of lofty cheer.
Amidst the storm they sang,
And the stars heard and the sea:
And the sounding aisles of the dim woods rang
To the anthem of the free!
The ocean eagle soar'd
From his nest by the white wave's foam
And the rocking pines of the forest roar'd--
This was their welcome home!
There were men with hoary hair
Amidst that pilgrim band:--
Why had they come to wither there,
Away from their childhood's land?
There was woman's fearless eye,
Lit by her deep love's truth;
There was manhood's brow serenely high,
And the fiery heart of youth.
What sought they thus afar?
Bright jewels of the mine?
The wealth of seas, the spoils of war?--
They sought a faith's pure shrine!
Ay, call it holy ground,
The soil where first they trode.
They have left unstained, what there they found--
Freedom to worship God.
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Green Woods Of Truagh
In the green woods of Truagh we met without fear,
Your kiss on my lips, and your voice in my ear,
Your tender arms about me, and your eyes glad and clear–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh the days go on wings,
On every brown branch a gladsome bird sings
And the fragrant amber blossom of the honey-suckle swings–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh the bracken stands high,
And wells of spring-water in deep hollows lie,
And the red deer is browsing in the cool shadows nigh–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh no sorrow dared stay,
The lark called me early at dawn o' the day,
And o'er my sleep at night pleasant dreams used to play–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh you wait till I come–
I left home and you for the stranger's far home,
To bring a hoard of yellow gold across the grey foam–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh–if God hears my prayer–
I shall reach you, O true love, my empty hands there,
For little of the yellow gold has fallen to my share–
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
In the green woods of Truagh–your heart on my own,
And your bright hair in ringlets across my cheek blown
Now where in all the wide, wide world, could greater bliss be known?
Ochón, the Green Woods of Truagh!
poem by Anna Johnston MacManus
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today... The Thought of You Disgust Me to Tears
You are just not worthy,
Of my love and loyalty.
You dismiss my attempts,
To be totally devoted...
As something owed.
As if I was born to be attracted to you.
And you,
Happened to have been doing charity work.
With a decision you made to do me a favor.
You are just not worthy,
Of my patience I give with blind tolerance.
Others tried to convince me,
I made it too easy for you to use and abuse...
My inability to stop loving you.
Others tried to convince me,
You did nothing for me but treat me like a fool.
But the fool made in this scenerio is Y-O-U.
And you've proven that is if proud to announce it.
Well...
There is nothing left for you to announce.
No integrity left for you to save.
I use to think of you as being bold and brave.
Honest to a fault and inspiring.
Today...
The thought of you disgust me to tears.
Any picture I have of you,
Sitting high on a pedestal in my mind...
I seek to medicate to have you removed.
Anything to get me to feel I am cleansed.
The thought of ever being near you,
Embraced in a nakedness, exposed to show truth...
Has left me feeling cheap and dirty!
You disgust me to tears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Today... The Thought of You Disgust Me to Tears
You are just not worthy,
Of my love and loyalty.
You dismiss my attempts,
To be totally devoted...
As something owed.
As if I was born to be attracted to you.
And you,
Happened to have been doing charity work.
With a decision you made to do me a favor.
You are just not worthy,
Of my patience I give with blind tolerance.
Others tried to convince me,
I made it too easy for you to use and abuse...
My inability to stop loving you.
Others tried to convince me,
You did nothing for me but treat me like a fool.
But the fool made in this scenerio is Y-O-U.
And you've proven that is if proud to announce it.
Well...
There is nothing left for you to announce.
No integrity left for you to save.
I use to think of you as being bold and brave.
Honest to a fault and inspiring.
Today...
The thought of you disgust me to tears.
Any picture I have of you,
Sitting high on a pedestal in my mind...
I seek to medicate to have you removed.
Anything to get me to feel I am cleansed.
The thought of ever being near you,
Embraced in a nakedness, exposed to show truth...
Has left me feeling cheap and dirty!
You disgust me to tears.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home
There is a place I was born
It is a place Ive never seen
Dont even know where it is
Dont even know my name
Where is home, where is my home?
Im searching far and wide
Its a bastard song
It is the feeling that everythings wrong
We are alive, we that have wings
We have devices can do anything, I say
Where is home, where is my home?
I hear my spirit cry
If youre out of transmission, way out on the road
If youre out of commission I can, give you the code
Darkness is coming and its in your command
Time to be moving, time
There is a town I was born
Now theres a place Ive got to call home
Where is home, where is my home?
Im searching far and wide, oh yeah
Where is home, where is my home?
I hear my spirit cry
Its in the clear blue sky
song performed by by Midnight Oil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Land
Our land of Australia, this country so wide,
Where on holidays, you can find somewhere to hide;
Away from the noise, to the county, or the sea side,
A place to call home awhile, watch the incoming tide.
Our Land is made of states, and mountains so high,
Where you can climb, watch the scenes, and give a sigh;
The vastness as you look around, and thank the good Lord,
For His creation, of beauty, then I see as I read His Word,
Our land of creatures, wild, fauna, roaming so free,
And the many colours, of the creatures that my eyes do see;
From the large emu, to the tiniest lizard, crawling near me,
I then thank the good Lord, these things were meant to be.
Our land of mountains, and the rivers and sea that's here,
The flora spread around, their colors so close and near.
Reminds me of the rainbow, and Gods promise so dear,
That God made creation for us, with His Love, takes away fear.
Our land of many places, and a nation to behold,
To think of the trees standing tall, some very old;
And then in the ground, we find some beauty, as Gold,
But then look at the brave hearts of a patient, who is Bold.
Our land so big, Yet from a plane so very high,
Looks so tiny, like ants, crawling all by;
Look at the fish, swimming around, in the sea, oh I sigh,
Thank you Dear Lord, for everything, I've seen by and by.
poem by Margaret Haig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Leave Right Now
I'm here just like I said
Though its breaking every rule I've ever made
My racing heart is just the same
Why make it strong to break it once again?
And I'd love to say I do
Give everything to you
But I can never now be true
So I say...
Chorus:
I think I'd better leave right now
Before I fall any deeper
I think I'd better leave right now
Feeling weaker and weaker
Somebody better show me how
Before I fall any deeper
I think I'd better leave right now
I'm here so please explain
Why you're opening up a healing wound again
I'm a little more careful
Perhaps it shows
But if I lose the highs, at least I'm spared the lows
Bridge
Now I tremble in your arms
What could be the harm
To feel my spirit calm
So I say..
Repeat Chorus
I wouldn't know how to say
How good it feels seeing you today
I see you've got your smile back
Like you say you're right on track
But you may never know why
Once bitten twice is shy
If I'm proud perhaps I should explain
I couldn't bear to lose you again
Repeat Chorus
Yes I will...
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Will Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Leave Right Now
I'm here just like I said
Though its breaking every rule I've ever made
My racing heart is just the same
Why make it strong to break it once again?
And I'd love to say I do
Give everything to you
But I can never now be true
So I say...
Chorus:
I think I'd better leave right now
Before I fall any deeper
I think I'd better leave right now
Feeling weaker and weaker
Somebody better show me how
Before I fall any deeper
I think I'd better leave right now
I'm here so please explain
Why you're opening up a healing wound again
I'm a little more careful
Perhaps it shows
But if I lose the highs, at least I'm spared the lows
Bridge
Now I tremble in your arms
What could be the harm
To feel my spirit calm
So I say..
Repeat Chorus
I wouldn't know how to say
How good it feels seeing you today
I see you've got your smile back
Like you say you're right on track
But you may never know why
Once bitten twice is shy
If I'm proud perhaps I should explain
I couldn't bear to lose you again
Repeat Chorus
Yes I will...
Repeat Chorus
song performed by by Will Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Proud Old Glory
I am the blood, I am the soul
I am the essence of liberty, so bold
I am the heart, I am the life
I am the dream and the vision, all that's right
I am the hope, I am the truth
I am the faith and the spirit of the aged and the youth
I am the warmth, I am the breath
I am the peace and the honor, life and death
I am justice, I am love
I stand for freedom, and salute our brave
I serve my country with pride
Old Glory is my name, God made this land my home
I am the proud flag of America
I am the proud flag of America.
poem by Trade Martin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First and Last
Thy "little lamb" once more!
My Lord, my life, my rest,
Borne in thine arms the wide world o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast.
Thy sheep across the waste
Were wandering far and wide,
And after them my heart would baste
To bring them to thy side.
Thy lambs were weak and faint,
I could but give my best;
Feebly I sought to still the plaint,
And bear them on my breast.
Great Shepherd of the sheep!
The sheep are thine, not mine!
Thou thy great flock wilt surely keep,
And each one lamb of thine.
Ever, the wide waste o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast!
Thy lost thou seekest evermore,
I seek, with thee, and rest.
A lamb upon thy breast,
Still learning what thou art, -
Our Lord, our life, our strength, our rest!
Borne on thy changeless heart.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Thy "little lamb" once more
My Lord, my life, my rest;
Borne in thine arms the dark flood o'er,
A lamb upon thy breast!
poem by Elizabeth Rundle Charles from Littell's Living Age, Volume 143, Issue 1842
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Land Of The Living
I know of a land
Where hair does not grey, and where time’s rule is banned,
Where sun does not burn, and where wave does not ring,
Where autumn embraces the blossoming spring,
Where morning and evening unceasingly dance
In noon’s brightest glance.
Oh, wonderful land,
Where glass does not run full of tear-drops as sand,
Where nothing is wanting that’s worth holding dear,
Where that does not lack which so pained us back here!
With breast filled with longing we seek ever more
Your sweet-smiling shore.
Oh, long-promised land!
We greet you in morning hour’s mirror-clear strand,
When perfect your shadow the child may espy
And dreams that in green woods is where you must lie,
Where too it can share with the rushes and flowers
Its smile and its hours.
Oh, transient dream
Of island eternal in time’s rushing stream!
Of joy’s sacred temple in life’s vale of tears,
Of life half-divine in this hall’s mortal years!
The land of the living with you melts away
From those made of clay.
Oh, hope-dashing dream!
You glittering bubble on time’s rushing stream!
In vain would the poet, with voice and with pen,
From bright-gleaming shadows create you again;
Where shadow comes closest, the small will all weep
Who on it gaze deep.
Oh, spell-binding dream
Of pearl that’s eternal in time’s rushing stream!
You fool those poor persons who all seek in vain
In image and art what the heart would retain,
And make them call lasting what just disappears
Like days, months and years.
Oh, spirit of love!
Your hand let me kiss, reaching down from above
From heaven’s fair skies to this earth’s murky hold
And touching our eyes with its fingers of gold,
So blue-tinged there climbs behind surf-roaring strand
The wonderful land!
Oh, heavenly name,
Whose sacred embrace does our nature inflame,
So spirit can mingle with dust without grief
And bring back to life every dead withered leaf!
Oh, deep in my clay let me fall on my knee
So God may see me!
Oh, faith beyond bliss,
Whose high-vaulted bridge spans the gaping abyss
When drifting ice threatens in surf-roaring strand
From poor mortal dwelling to far promised land!
Come farther down to me, you high-honoured guest!
That pleases you best.
Oh, hope fleet of wing!
Oh, brother reborn through divine christening!
For all journeys made to the land o’er the sea,
Good tidings and comfort you’ve lavished on me,
May I ever thank you, so joy is in store
When hope is no more!
Oh, love perfect love!
Quiet source of fierce torrents that mightily move!
He calls you his father who ransoms our plight
Your spirit all soul’s vital force does ignite;
Your kingdom is there where man death does defy;
May us it be nigh!
Our father sublime!
You willingly reign in earth’s temple of grime,
Who builds up the spirit in Jesu’s sweet name,
In human embrace with an altar aflame,
With heaven-bright dwelling of faith dearly won,
For you and your son.
Oh, Christian faith sweet!
You grant every heart what the world cannot greet;
What barely we glimpse while our eye is still blue,
Is living within us, we know this is true;
Both heaven and earth are my land, life confides
Where love e’er resides.
poem by Nicolaj Frederik Severin Grundtvig
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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