Sonnet XXII
THis holy season fit to fast and pray,
Men to deuotion ought to be inclynd:
therefore, I lykewise on so holy day,
for my sweet Saynt some seruice fit will find.
Her temple fayre is built within my mind,
in which her glorious ymage placed is,
on which my thoughts doo day and night attend
lyke sacred priests that neuer thinke amisse.
There I to her as th'author of my blisse,
will builde an altar to appease her yre:
and on the same my hart will sacrifise,
burning in flames of pure and chast desyre:
The which vouchsafe O goddesse to accept,
amongst thy deerest relicks to be kept.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Amoretti XXII: This Holy Season
This holy season, fit to fast and pray,
Men to devotion ought to be inclin'd:
Therefore I likewise on so holy day,
For my sweet saint some service fit will find.
Her temple fair is built within my mind,
In which her glorious image placed is,
On which my thoughts do day and night attend,
Like sacred priests that never think amiss.
There I to her as th' author of my bliss,
Will build an altar to appease her ire:
And on the same my heart will sacrifice,
Burning in flames of pure and chaste desire:
The which vouchsafe, O goddess, to accept,
Amongst thy dearest relics to be kept.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Sonnet LXXVI
FAyre bosome fraught with vertues richest tresure,
The neast of loue, the lodging of delight:
the bowre of blisse, the paradice of pleasure,
the sacred harbour of that heuenly spright.
How was I rauisht with your louely sight,
and my frayle thoughts too rashly led astray?
whiles diuing deepe through amorous insight,
on the sweet spoyle of beautie they did pray.
And twixt her paps like early fruit in May,
whose haruest seemd to hasten now apace:
they loosely did theyr wanton winges display,
and there to rest themselues did boldly place.
Sweet thoughts I enuy your so happy rest,
which oft I wisht, yet neuer was so blest.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Poem 13
Behold whiles she before the altar stands
Hearing the holy priest that to her speakes
And blesseth her with his two happy hands,
How the red roses flush vp in her cheekes,
And the pure snow with goodly vermill stayne,
Like crimsin dyde in grayne,
That euen th'Angels which continually,
About the sacred Altare doe remaine,
Forget their seruice and about her fly,
Ofte peeping in her face that seemes more fayre,
The more they on it stare.
But her sad eyes still fastened on the ground,
Are gouerned with goodly modesty,
That suffers not one looke to glaunce awry,
Which may let in a little thought vnsownd,
Why blush ye loue to giue to me your hand,
The pledge of all our band,
Sing ye sweet Angels Alleluya sing,
That all the woods may answere and your eccho ring.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Sonnet LXXIX
MEn call you fayre, and you doe credit it,
For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see:
but the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit,
and vertuous mind is much more praysd of me.
For all the rest, how euer fayre it be,
shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew:
but onely that is permanent and free
from frayle corruption, that doth flesh ensew.
That is true beautie: that doth argue you
to be diuine and borne of heauenly seed:
deriu'd from that fayre Spirit, from whom al true
and perfect beauty did at first proceed.
He only fayre, and what he fayre hath made,
all other fayre lyke flowres vntymely fade.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Sonnet XLV
LEaue lady, in your glasse of christall clene,
Your goodly selfe for euermore to vew:
and in my selfe, my inward selfe I meane,
most liuely lyke behold your semblant trew.
Within my hart, though hardly it can shew,
thing so diuine to vew of earthly eye:
the fayre Idea of your celestiall hew,
and euery part remaines immortally:
And were it not that through your cruelty,
with sorrow dimmed and deformd it were:
the goodly ymage of your visnomy,
clearer then christall would therein appere.
But if your selfe in me ye playne will see,
remoue the cause by which your fayre beames darkned be.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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A Dittie
Behold her lockes like wiers of beaten gold,
her eies like starres that twinkle in the skie,
Her heauenly face not framd of earthly molde,
Her voice that sounds Apollos melodie,
The miracle of time, the [whole] worlds storie,
Fortunes Queen, Loues treasure, Natures glory.
No flattering hope she likes, blind Fortunes bait
nor shadowes of delight, fond fansies glasse,
Nor charmes that do inchant, false artes deceit,
nor fading ioyes, which time makes swiftly pas
But chast desires which beateth all these downe ;
A Goddesse looke is worth a Monarchs crowne.
Goddesse and Monarch of [t]his happie Ile,
vouchsafe this bow which is an huntresse part :
Your eies are arrows though they seeme to smile
which neuer glanst but gald the stateliest hart,
Strike one, strike all, for none at all can flie,
They gaze you in the face although they die.
Here I Come-4
Holy holy is He
So merciful
Lion and King
Wonderful Counselor
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Most High God
Holy holy
Prince of Peace
Mighty Redeemer
King of Kings
Most High God
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
Take my sins
As far as the east
Is from the west
Purge me
With your precious blood
Shelter me
From the storms
Cover me
With your glory
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
You are so holy
You went to the cross
For me
So holy
You bled for me
So holy
You paid a price
I could not pay
Holy holy
Holy holy is He
Holy holy is He
Forever holy.
poem by Buxton Shippy
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Sonnet LXXXIIII
LEt not one sparke of filthy lustfull fyre
breake out, that may her sacred peace molest:
ne one light glance of sensuall desyre:
Attempt to work her gentle mindes vnrest.
But pure affections bred in spotlesse brest,
& modest thoughts breathd fro[m] wel te[m]pred sprites
goe visit her in her bowre of rest,
accompanyde with angelick delightes.
There fill your selfe with those most ioyous sights,
the which my selfe could neuer yet attayne:
but speake no word to her of these sad plights,
which her too constant stiffenesse doth constrayn.
Onely behold her rare perfection,
and blesse your fortunes fayre election.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Poem 10
TEll me ye merchants daughters did ye see
So fayre a creature in your towne before,
So sweet, so louely, and so mild as she,
Adornd with beautyes grace and vertues store,
Her goodly eyes lyke Saphyres shining bright,
Her forehead yuory white,
Her cheekes lyke apples which the sun hath rudded,
Her lips lyke cherryes charming men to byte,
Her brest like to a bowle of creame vncrudded,
Her paps lyke lyllies budded,
Her snowie necke lyke to a marble towre,
And allher body like a pallace fayre,
Ascending vppe with many a stately stayre,
To honors seat and chastities sweet bowre.
Why stand ye still ye virgins in amaze,
Vpon her so to gaze,
Whiles ye forget your former lay to sing,
To which the woods did answer and your eccho ring
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Love Is Holy
Written by rick nowels & ellen shipley
Love is holy, dont forget it
It will heal you if you let it
Love will strip you, leave you naked
Love is sexy, love is sacred
I put my faith in me and you
Somehow I know that well put through
Oh I feel my life passing by
Sometimes it makes me want to cry
Thank God Ive got you by my side
Every night I hope and pray
Nothing takes your love away
I lie awake just to watch you breathe
Love is holy when you lay with me
Love is holy baby stay with me
I dont understand the world today
Is everything made just to throw away
But you and I (you and I)
Get closer as time goes by (till I die)
I feel my love intensify
Baby youre a spiritual high
Every night I hope and pray
Nothing takes your love away
I lie awake just to watch you breathe
Love is holy when you lay with me
Love is holy baby stay with me
Love is holy, dont forget it
It will heal you if you let it
Love will strip you, leave you naked
Love is sexy, love is sacred
Every night I hope and pray
Nothing takes your love away
I lie awake just to watch you breathe
Love is holy when you lay with me
Love is holy baby stay with me
(every night I hope and pray)
(nothing takes your love away)
I lie awake just to watch you breathe
Love is holy when you lay with me
Love is holy baby stay with me
song performed by by Kim Wilde
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Whenever I Pray the Holy Rosary:
Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My woes all vanish into air;
My foes disappear and don’t dare.
Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
Miracles happen more with ease;
God answers my prayers and pleas.
Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My world becomes rosy again;
My life becomes a boon, not bane.
Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
God helps me well in life to cope;
God consoles me and gives new hope.
Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My sinful habits vanish fast;
My soul gets filled with grace at last.
Whenev’r I pray the Holy Rosary:
My trials vanish, one by one;
My works God-bless’d are fully done.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 5-5-2008
poem by John Celes
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Silent Night Medley
O holy night the stars are brightly shining
This is the night of our dear saviors birth
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appeared and his soul felt its worth
At thrill of hope, the weary soul rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn
Fall on your knees
O hear the angels voices
O night divine
O night when christ was born
Silent night, holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin mother and child
Holy infant so tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace
Sleep in heavenly peace
Fall on your knees
O hear the angels voices
O night divine
O night when christ was born
O come o ye faithful
Joyful and triumphant
O come ye o come ye to bethlehem
Come and behold him, born the king of angels
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him
O come let us adore him christ the lord.
Fall on your knees
O hear the angels voices
O night divine
O night when christ was born
Oh night divine o night o holy
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Woah
Oh holy night
When jesus was born
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Look at those stars in the sky
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Jesus was born tonight
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
Oh holy night
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O' Holy Night
Oh holy night!
The stars are brightly shining
It is the night of our dear Savior's birth!
Long lay the world in sin and error pining
Till he appear'd and the soul felt its worth.
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn!
Fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh holy night when Christ was born
Oh fall on your knees
Oh hear the angel voices
Oh night divine
Oh holy night when Christ was born
(Holy night Holy night when Christ was born
Holy night Holy night when Christ was born)
Holy night
song performed by by Destiny's Child from 8 Days Of Christmas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet XXX
MY loue is lyke to yse, and I to fyre;
how comes it then that this her cold so great
is not dissolu'd through my so hot desyre,
but harder growes the more I her intreat?
Or how comes it that my exceeding heat
is not delayd by her hart frosen cold:
but that I burne much more in boyling sweat,
and feel my flames augmented manifold?
What more miraculous thing may be told
that fire which all things melts, should harden yse:
and yse which is congeald with sencelesse cold,
should kindle fyre by wonderfull deuyse.
Such is the powre of loue in gentle mind,
that it can alter all the course of kynd.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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SOnnet LXXIII
BEing my selfe captyued here in care,
My hart, whom none with seruile bands can tye:
but the fayre tresses of your golden hayre,
breaking his prison forth to you doth fly.
Lyke as a byrd that in ones hand doth spy
desired food, to it doth make his flight:
euen so my hart, that wont on your fayre eye
to feed his fill, flyes backe vnto your sight.
Doe you him take, and in your bosome bright,
gently encage, that he may be your thrall:
perhaps he there may learne with rare delight,
to sing your name and prayses ouer all.
That it hereafter may you not repent,
him lodging in your bosome to haue lent.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Holy Is The Lord
Holy is your name, in all the earth I worship you
Holy is your name, in all the earth I come to you
Holy is your name, in all the earth I sing to you
Holy, Holy, Holy is your name
Holy are you Lord, I come before your throne and bow
Holy are you Lord, I come into your presence now
Holy are you Lord I listen to the angels sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord
Holy are you Lord, my heart it leaps within my chest
Holy are you Lord, Its in your arms I find my rest
Holy are you Lord, the saints around the world they sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord
Now listen to the saints, they sing Holy are you Lord
Now listen to them cry to you, Holy are you Lord
There is a cry around the world, they lift their voice and sing
Holy, Holy, Holy are you Lord
I come before your throne to sing, Holy is your name
I come before your throne to sing, I'll never be the same
Pour our out your fire of love on me, this is what I sing
Holy, Holy, to the risen King
poem by Frank McEleny
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The Faerie Queene: Book I, Canto I
THE FIRST BOOKE OF THE FAERIE QUEENE
Contayning
THE LEGENDE OF THE KNIGHT OF THE
RED CROSSE, OR OF HOLINESSEProemi
Lo I the man, whose Muse whilome did maske,
As time her taught in lowly Shepheards weeds,
Am now enforst a far unfitter taske,
For trumpets sterne to chaunge mine Oaten reeds,
And sing of Knights and Ladies gentle deeds;
Whose prayses having slept in silence long,
Me, all too meane, the sacred Muse areeds
To blazon broad emongst her learned throng:
Fierce warres and faithful loves shall moralize my song.
ii
Helpe then, O holy Virgin chiefe of nine,
Thy weaker Novice to performe thy will,
Lay forth out of thine everlasting scryne
The antique rolles, which there lye hidden still,
Of Faerie knights and fairest Tanaquill,
Whom that most noble Briton Prince so long
Sought through the world, and suffered so much ill,
That I must rue his undeserved wrong:
O helpe thou my weake wit, and sharpen my dull tong.
iii
And thou most dreaded impe of highest Jove,
Faire Venus sonne, that with thy cruell dart
At that good knight so cunningly didst rove,
That glorious fire it kindled in his hart,
Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart,
And with thy mother milde come to mine ayde:
Come both, and with you bring triumphant Mart,
In loves and gentle jollities arrayd,
After his murdrous spoiles and bloudy rage allayd.
iv
And with them eke, O Goddesse heavenly bright,
Mirrour of grace and Majestie divine,
Great Lady of the greatest Isle, whose light
Like Phoebus lampe throughout the world doth shine,
Shed thy faire beames into my feeble eyne,
And raise my thoughts too humble and too vile,
To thinke of that true glorious type of thine,
The argument of mine afflicted stile:
The which to heare, vouchsafe, O dearest dred a-while.
CANTO I
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Upon The Altar Of My Lord
I offer my words up freely,
upon the altar of my God.
I come to this sacred place freely,
of my own free will to serve to pray.
This ancient sacred place this land,
this holy sacred God given ground;
is where in my humble veneration,
in worship I lay my offering down.
I have nothing more; to humbly offer pray.
I have while materially poor nothing more,
than time of value worth to humbly offer pray;
this is all I have I here in true worship bore,
I offer before my most high my sacred Lord.
Near on thirty years ago, I made this sacred vow,
with my soul heart head, bowed in breath low;
though my flesh remains, be still struggle weak,
this vow before God in worship I honour keep.
I thank my wondrous Lord, who let me humbly come here pray.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Silent Night (feat. Cormac Breatnach & Martin Dunlea)
Silent night, holy night!
All is calm, all is bright.
Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Silent night, holy night!
Shepherds quake at the sight.
Glories stream from heaven afar
Heavenly hosts sing Alleluia,
Christ the Savior is born!
Christ the Savior is born.
Silent night, holy night!
Silent night, holy night!
Son of God love's pure light.
Radiant beams from Thy holy face
With dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.
Jesus Lord, at Thy birth.
Silent night, holy night!
Silent night, holy night!
song performed by by Vanessa Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Poem 12
OPen the temple gates vnto my loue,
Open them wide that she may enter in,
And all the postes adorne as doth behoue,
And all the pillours deck with girlands trim,
For to recyue this Saynt with honour dew,
That commeth in to you,
With trembling steps and humble reuerence,
She commeth in, before th'almighties vew,
Of her ye virgins learne obedience,
When so ye come into those holy places,
To humble your proud faces
Bring her vp to th'high altar that she may,
The sacred ceremonies there partake,
The which do endlesse matrimony make,
And let the roring Organs loudly play;
The praises of the Lord in liuely notes,
The whiles with hollow throates.
The Choristers the ioyous Antheme sing,
That al the woods may answere and their eccho ring
poem by Edmund Spenser
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