Yolande
Natural talents and abilities,
And like villages without walls;
For my name is Yolande and,
I am alone on the narrow path of love.
Time after time and,
Sabbath after Sabbath;
And of the old harvest to share with you!
Because, drought and barrenness have overshadowed me.
Oh my lover,
I am now in the Wilderness of Sinai looking for you;
For i will always share my finest olive oil with you,
And you have to stay tongiht with me.
The sack of the old harvest is with me and,
Let me tell the wind to seek for you;
For the wind blows to where it wants to and,
We are like the female-goat and the male-goat.
Get twelve staffs from the wilderness and come to me,
Come and lead me on to be able to walk through the bush;
For i have a spear in my hand and,
I will guide you on into the chambers of my love.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Related quotes
The Boy Out Of Church
As Jesus and his followers
Upon a Sabbath morn
Were walking by a wheat field
They plucked the ears of corn.
They plucked it, they rubbed it,
They blew the husks away,
Which grieved the pious pharisees
Upon the Sabbath day.
And Jesus said, 'A riddle
Answer if you can,
Was man made for the Sabbath
Or Sabbath made for man?'
I do not love the Sabbath,
The soapsuds and the starch,
The troops of solemn people
Who to Salvation march.
I take my book, I take my stick
On the Sabbath day,
In woody nooks and valleys
I hide myself away.
To ponder there in quiet
God's Universal Plan,
Resolved that church and Sabbath
Were never made for man.
poem by Robert Graves
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Sabbath, My Love
greet my love with wine and gladsome lay;
Welcome, thrice welcome, joyous Seventh Day!
Six slaves the weekdays are; I share
With them a round of toil and care,
Yet light the burdens seem, I bear
For your sweet sake, Sabbath, my love!
On the First-day to the accustomed task
I go content, nor reward ask,
Save in your smile, at length, to bask --
Day blessed of God, Sabbath, my love!
Is the Second-day dull, the Third-day unbright?
Hide sun and stars from the Fourth-day's sight?
What need I care, who have your light,
Orb of my life, Sabbath, my love!
The Fifth-day, joyful tidings ring:
"The morrow shall your freedom bring!"
At dawn a slave, at eve a king --
God's table waits, Sabbath, my love!
On the Sixth-day does my cup overflow,
What blissful rest the night shall know,
When, in your arms, my toil and woe
Are all forgotten, Sabbath, my love!
Now it's dusk. With sudden light distilled
From one sweet face, the world is filled;
The tumult of my heart is stilled --
For you have arrived, Sabbath, my love!
Bring fruits and wine, and sing a cheerful lay,
Chant: "Come in peace, O blissful Seventh Day!"
poem by Yehudah HaLevi
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I was so frustrated in Sabbath after the last few albums. I just didn't like the musical direction Sabbath was going in.
quote by Geezer Butler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I believe the Sabbath; I keep the Sabbath.
quote by John Harvey Kellogg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Holy Sabbath Day
God created the things He thought
Over the six days of the week,
And being pleased with His own work,
The Sabbath Day of rest, He sought!
God made the Sabbath Day for man
So that his body, heart and mind,
From week-days’ drudgery, rest find,
And thereby increase his life’s span!
God made the Sabbath Day holy
So that man could be nearer God,
And keep his soul afilled with grace,
And keep the heaven’s road always!
The Sabbath Day is crucial
For man to keep off diseases
Those afflict him these modern days,
And add more years to life on earth.
The Sabbath is the answer to
The affluent illnesses that
Affect most men including stress,
Avoiding all things of excess!
Man, keep the Sabbath Day holy;
Give rest to body, mind and heart;
Cleanse soul from sins by divine art,
And do your duty for your part.
On this day, think of God much more,
And thank Him for His blessings shown;
Pray fervently from your heart’s core,
And keep off evils known, unknown!
For, holy, holy is the Lord
Of heavens, earth – the most high God;
Whatever He says may look odd;
All will be fine, heeding His Word!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-23-2009
poem by John Celes
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More than the jewish people preserved the sabbath, the sabbath preserved them.
Some Keep the Sabbath Going to Church
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church --
I keep it, staying at Home --
With a Bobolink for a Chorister --
And an Orchard, for a Dome --
Some keep the Sabbath in Surplice --
I just wear my Wings --
And instead of tolling the Bell, for Church,
Our little Sexton -- sings.
God preaches, a noted Clergyman --
And the sermon is never long,
So instead of getting to Heaven, at least --
I'm going, all along.
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Talents Die Easily In Africa!
Oh talents, oh talents!
Talents do die easily in Africa;
But, talents are special gifts which,
Money cannot buy.
It is a special gift,
It is in you,
You don't even need a Higher Degree for them;
Talents are everywhere on this earth.
The talents of Africa do die very often,
Who is even ready to listen to them?
The true talents of the Africans go to the drain.
Like a rain on a train,
Like an early wake up call without a view;
Life is really so strange over here in Africa.
I have a dream!
But, who will listen?
My brain is with various talents but,
Who will help me with my dreams?
Talents, talents, talents! !
Africa turns to regress in this field while,
Others do progress!
Our talents can be useful,
It's time we give a helping hand;
Oh talents, oh talents!
It's time we listen to those who have them;
Cos', we are the world.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The man with the deformed hand
On the Sabbath with my shrivelled deformed hand
in front of all the people I took my stand.
Everyone was watching expectantly
I know it's the Sabbath but will He heal me?
The Pharisees and the teachers of the law
were very unhappy with the things they saw.
They looked for reasons to accuse Him of sin
and if He healed me then they thought they would win.
He said, 'On the Sabbath should we do evil? '
'Should we save a person's life or should we kill? '
Jesus spoke these words to the Pharisees there
they were quiet showing no compassion or care.
Then, 'Stretch out your hand, ' Jesus commanded me
and restored my withered hand for all to see.
So when I placed both of my hands together
the bad hand was made as good as the other.
I cannot understand and did not know
why all of the Pharisees acted so.
But I am so glad that Jesus healed me
from my handicap and deformity.
Written after reading Luke 6: 6-10
The Shepherd's Sabbath Song
Schäfers Sonntagslied
Ich bin so hold den sanften Tagen,
Das ist der Tag des Herrn!
Ich bin allein auf weiter Flur;
Noch eine Morgenglocke nur,
Nun Stille nah und fern.
Anbetend knie ich hier.
O süßes Graun! geheimes Wehn!
Als knieten viele ungesehn
Und beteten mit mir.
Der Himmel nah und fern,
Er ist so klar und feierlich,
So ganz, als wollt’ er öffnen sich.
Das ist der Tag des Herrn!
This is the Sabbath day!
The Shepherd's Sabbath Song
In the wide field I am alone.
Hark! now one morning bell's sweet tone--
Now it has died away.
Kneeling, I worship Thee:
Sweet dread doth o'er my spirit steal,
From whispering sounds of those who kneel,
Unseen, to pray with me.
Around and far away
So clear and solemn is the sky,
It seems all opening to my eye:
This is the Sabbath day!
poem by Johann Ludwig Uhland
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Let Us Forget Our Villages...
Villages, my friend, are no more those heavens.
You used to tell about villages living, I remember.
Villages, my friend, are no more those marvels.
You used to boast about the ones quite variant, I recall.
Villages have begun to grow its heights,
Its vast expanses shrinking to a few yards.
Villages have sent away their caring mothers to the towns,
Villages have driven away their milky animals to the farm houses.
That`s why my friend, I can`t take you to my village
And when you offer to do so, I am not inclined.
Let us hide in the fortress of this city`s hard walls known to us and
Forget our villages where our memories wander as ghosts.
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Kalala
Kalala,
Long time no see!
But your work is little stressfull;
But the horn blower reminds me of the sabbath.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Bulk of Your Talents Clearly On Display
Your campaign to defame,
And slander my name in shame...
Has in fact helped to keep my integrity intact.
And those who are aware of your attacks,
Wonder about those skills you claim to have?
Since your abilities have been limited,
To narrow minded tactics.
With the bulk of your talents clearly on display.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sonnet: Keep The Sabbath-day Holy
'Remember Man, to keep Sabbath holy',
The Third commandment of God clearly says;
And if you can't, 'twill be your own folly;
Your life gets spent wholly in worldly ways.
Oh, what a pleasure hearing Sunday Mass,
And taking part in God's great sacrifice!
God made the six days, for man's sake; Alas!
The Sabbath day is God's just asking price!
What guilty feelings fill my heart when I,
Don't go for Sunday's Liturgical rites?
A good habit for soul's sake should not die;
God's candle in our heart, it serves to light.
Can I not spend just one day for God's sake?
'Tis worth the swim in Elysium- God's Lake!
poem by John Celes
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Natural abilities can almost compensate for the want of every kind of cultivation, but no cultivation of the mind can make up for the want of natural abilities.
quote by John Ruskin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Olney Hymn 41: Mourning And Longing
The Saviour hides His face;
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love.
The favor'd souls who know
What glories shine in Him,
Pant for His presence as the roe
Pants for the living stream.
What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies!
They cleave to everything I do,
And swim before my eyes.
How dull the Sabbath day,
Without the Sabbath's Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,
And wait upon the Word!
Of all the truths I hear,
How few delight my taste!
I glean a berry here and there,
But mourn the vintage past.
Yet let me (as I ought)
Still hope to be supplied;
No pleasure else is worth a thought,
Nor shall I be denied.
Though I am but a worm,
Unworthy of His care,
The Lord will my desire perform,
And grant me all my prayer.
poem by William Cowper
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Mourning and Longing
The Saviour hides His face;
My spirit thirsts to prove
Renew'd supplies of pardoning grace,
And never-fading love.
The favor'd souls who know
What glories shine in Him,
Pant for His presence as the roe
Pants for the living stream.
What trifles tease me now!
They swarm like summer flies!
They cleave to everything I do,
And swim before my eyes.
How dull the Sabbath day,
Without the Sabbath's Lord!
How toilsome then to sing and pray,
And wait upon the Word!
Of all the truths I hear,
How few delight my taste!
I glean a berry here and there,
But mourn the vintage past.
Yet let me (as I ought)
Still hope to be supplied;
No pleasure else is worth a thought,
Nor shall I be denied.
Though I am but a worm,
Unworthy of His care,
The Lord will my desire perform,
And grant me all my prayer.
poem by William Cowper
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The Tay Bridge Disaster
Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
'Twas about seven o'clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seemed to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem'd to say --
"I'll blow down the Bridge of Tay."
When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers' hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say --
"I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay."
But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And the passengers' hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov'd most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.
So the train mov'd slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o'er the town,
Good heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill'd all the people's hearts with sorrow,
And made them all for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav'd to tell the tale
How the disaster happen'd on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember'd for a very long time.
It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay.
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv'ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.
poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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With Less Sweat
Why is it,
That someone will waste their skills...
And talents,
With a wish to perform with the giving of their gifts...
On someone else's created stage,
To shower them with 'their' brilliance.
Why would someone abandoned their own abilities,
To create their own stage from those resources given...
With a highlighting of those,
Who will not be demeaned because it is known...
They have a need to fit into the wrong places.
With a giving away to others...
Who look to make claims of discoveries stolen,
To produce their own names to be seen in lights.
Leaving people with talents to fight,
To be seen...
Only to have what they bring,
Used.
To be 'thanked' but excused from the audition process.
I 'feel' for those who are told their presence is not needed.
But their unique talents exposed were certainly used,
To be re-labelled and approved for purposes to market.
And...
With less sweat that had been sacrificed.
At the expense of stealing from someone their scene.
'We're sorry.
However,
Thank you for sharing with us your unique abilities.
We'll keep your 'info' in our files.
Expect to hear from us...
One day.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We never considered ourselves to be a good band or anything, we just thought we were playing for fun and we wanted to play music that sounded like Black Sabbath or Soundgarden or the music we were into at that time.
quote by Daniel Johns
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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