Chaucer's Prophecy
When priestes failen in their saws,
And lordes turne Godde's laws
Against the right;
And lechery is holden as privy solace,
And robbery as free purchase,
Beware then of ill!
Then shall the Land of Albion
Turne to confusion,
As sometime it befell.
Ora pro Anglia Sancta Maria, quod Thomas Cantuaria.
Sweet Jesus, heaven's King,
Fair and best of all thing,
You bring us out of this mourning,
To come to thee at our ending!
poem by Geoffrey Chaucer
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Related quotes
Ave Maria
Ave maria
Gratia plena
Dominus tecum
Benedicta tu
In mulieribus
Et benedictus
Fructus ventris
Tui jesus
Sancta maria
Sancta maria
Maria
Ora pro nobis
Nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora
In hora mortis nostrae
(sancta maria
Sancta maria)
Maria
Ora pro nobis
Nobis peccatoribus
Nunc et in hora
In hora mortis nostrae
Amen amen
song performed by by Jewel
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Beware! (From The German)
I know a maiden fair to see,
Take care!
She can both false and friendly be,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She has two eyes, so soft and brown,
Take care!
She gives a side-glance and looks down,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
And she has hair of a golden hue,
Take care!
And what she says, it is not true,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She has a bosom as white as snow,
Take care!
She knows how much it is best to show,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
She gives thee a garland woven fair,
Take care!
It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,
She is fooling thee!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Three Kings Of Cologne
From out Cologne there came three kings
To worship Jesus Christ, their King.
To Him they sought fine herbs they brought,
And many a beauteous golden thing;
They brought their gifts to Bethlehem town,
And in that manger set them down.
Then spake the first king, and he said:
'O Child, most heavenly, bright, and fair!
I bring this crown to Bethlehem town
For Thee, and only Thee, to wear;
So give a heavenly crown to me
When I shall come at last to Thee!'
The second, then. 'I bring Thee here
This royal robe, O Child!' he cried;
'Of silk 'tis spun, and such an one
There is not in the world beside;
So in the day of doom requite
Me with a heavenly robe of white!'
The third king gave his gift, and quoth:
'Spikenard and myrrh to Thee I bring,
And with these twain would I most fain
Anoint the body of my King;
So may their incense sometime rise
To plead for me in yonder skies!'
Thus spake the three kings of Cologne,
That gave their gifts, and went their way;
And now kneel I in prayer hard by
The cradle of the Child to-day;
Nor crown, nor robe, nor spice I bring
As offering unto Christ, my King.
Yet have I brought a gift the Child
May not despise, however small;
For here I lay my heart to-day,
And it is full of love to all.
Take Thou the poor but loyal thing,
My only tribute, Christ, my King!
poem by Eugene Field
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The Lay Of Christine
TRANSLATED FROM THE ICELANDIC.
Of silk my gear was shapen,
Scarlet they did on me,
Then to the sea-strand was I borne
And laid in a bark of the sea.
O well were I from the World away.
Befell it there I might not drown,
For God to me was good;
The billows bare me up a-land
Where grew the fair green-wood.
O well were I from the World away.
There came a Knight a-riding
With three swains along the way
And he took me up, the little-one,
On the sea-sand as I lay.
O well were I from the World away.
He took me up, and bare me home
To the house that was his own,
And there bode I so long with him
That I was his love alone.
O well were I from the World away.
But the very first night we lay abed
Befell his sorrow and harm,
That thither came the King’s ill men,
And slew him on mine arm.
O well were I from the World away.
There slew they Adalbright the King,
Two of his swains slew they,
But the third sailed swiftly from the land
Sithence I saw him never a day.
O well were I from the World away.
O wavering hope of this world’s bliss,
How shall men trow in thee?
My Grove of Gems is gone away
For mine eyes no more to see!
O well were I from the World away.
Each hour the while my life shall last
Remembereth him alone,
Such heavy sorrow have I got
From our meeting long agone.
O well were I from the World away.
O, early in the morning-tide
Men cry: “Christine the fair,
Art thou well content with that true love
Thou sittest loving there?”
O well were I from the World away.
Ah, yea, so well I love him,
And so dear my love shall be,
That the very God of Heaven aloft
Worshippeth him and me.
O well were I from the World away.
“Ah, all the red gold I have got
Well would I give to-day,
Only for this and nothing else
From the world to win away.”
O well were I from the World away.
“Nay, midst all folk upon the earth
Keep thou thy ruddy gold,
And love withal the mighty lord
That wedded thee of old.”
O well were I from the World away.
poem by William Morris
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Never Ending
(words & music by kaye - springer)
Walk down to the beach at sunset
Look as far as you can see
You will find that endless ocean
And thats how my love will always be
I bring you never ending, never ending
Never ending, never ending
Never ending, never ending love
Look up at the sky at midnight
Gaze up on the starlit view
Just as heaven has no boundaries
Neither does my love for you
I bring you never ending, never ending
Never ending, never ending
Never ending, never ending love
Never ending love
Never ending love
Never ending love
Never ending love
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sancta Maria
Sancta Maria! turn thine eyes -
Upon the sinner's sacrifice,
Of fervent prayer and humble love,
From thy holy throne above.
At morn - at noon - at twilight dim -
Maria! thou hast heard my hymn!
In joy and wo - in good and ill -
Mother of God, be with me still!
When the Hours flew brightly by,
And not a cloud obscured the sky,
My soul, lest it should truant be,
Thy grace did guide to thine and thee;
Now, when storms of Fate o'ercast
Darkly my Present and my Past,
Let my Future radiant shine
With sweet hopes of thee and thine!
poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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L'Ancien Regime
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king all kings above?
A young girl brought him love;
And he dowered her with shame,
With a sort of infamous fame,
And then with lonely years
Of penance and bitter tears --
Love is scarcely the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A statesman brought him planned
Justice for all the land;
And he in recompense got
Fierce struggle with brigue and plot,
Then a fall from lofty place
Into exile and disgrace --
Justice is never the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A writer brought him truth;
And first he imprisoned the youth,
And then he bestowed a free pyre
That the works might have plenty of fire,
And also to cure the pain
Of the headache called thought in the brain --
Truth is a very bad thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
The people brought their sure
Loyalty fervid and pure;
And he gave them bountiful spoil
Of taxes and hunger and toil,
Ignorance, brutish plight,
And wholesale slaughter in fight --
Loyalty's quite the worst thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A courtier brought to his feet
Servility graceful and sweet,
With an ever ready smile
And an ever supple guile;
And he got in reward the place
Of the statesman in disgrace --
Servility's always a thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A soldier brought him war,
La gloire, la victoire,
Ravage and carnage and groans,
For the pious Te Deum tones;
And he got in return for himself
Rank and honors and pelf --
War is a very fine thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king?
A harlot brought him her flesh,
Her lusts, and the manifold mesh
Of her wiles intervolved with caprice;
And he gave her his realm to fleece,
To corrupt, to ruin, and gave
Himself for her toy and her slave
Harlotry's just the thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Who has a thing to bring
For a gift to our lord the king,
Our king who fears to die?
A priest brought him a lie,
The blackness of hell uprolled
In heaven's shining gold;
And he got as guerdon for that
A see and a cardinal's hat --
A lie is an excellent thing
To bring as a gift for our king.
Has any one yet a thing
For a gift to our lord the king?
The country gave him a tomb,
A magnificent sleeping-room;
And for this it obtained some rest,
Clear riddance of many a pest,
And a hope which it much enjoyed
That the throne would continue void --
A tomb is the very best thing
For a gift to our lord the king.
poem by James Thomson
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Oh my blacke Soule! now thou art summoned
Oh my black Soule! Now thou art summoned
By sicknesse, deaths herald, and champion;
Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done
Treason, and durst not turne to whence hee is fled,
Or like a thiefe, which till deaths doome be read,
Wisheth himselfe deliverd from prison;
But damn'd and hal'd to execution,
Wisheth that sill he might be imprisioned;
Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lacke;
But who shall give thee that grace to beginne?
Oh make thy selfe with holy mourning blacke;
And red with blushing, as thou art with sinne;
Or wash thee in Christ's blood, which hath this might
That being red, it dyes red soules to white.
poem by John Donne
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Away In Manger
(trad)
Away in a manger, no cry for a bed
The little load jesus laid down his sweet head
The stars in the bright sky,look down where he lay
The little load jesus, asleep on the hay
The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes
But little load jesaus, no crying he makes
I love thee load jesus, look down from the sky
And stay by my side until morning is nigh
Be near me, load jesus, I ask thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me I pray
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care
And take us to heaven, to live with thee there
And takes us to heaven, to live with thee there
song performed by by Olivia Newton-John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn XIII: Happy Soul that Free from Harms
Happy soul that free from harms
Rests within his Shepherd's arms!
Who his quiet shall molest?
Who shall violate his rest?
Jesus doth his spirit bear,
Jesus takes his every care;
He who found the wandering sheep,
Jesus still delights to keep.
O that I might so believe,
Steadfastly to Jesus cleave,
On his only love rely,
Smile at the destroyer nigh;
Free from sin and servile fear,
Have my Jesus ever near,
All his care rejoice to prove,
All his paradise of love!
Jesus, seek thy wandering sheep,
Bring me back, and lead, and keep;
Take on thee my every care,
Bear me, on thy bosom bear:
Let me know my Shepherd's voice,
More and more in thee rejoice,
More and more of thee receive,
Ever in thy Spirit live:
Live, till all thy life I know,
Perfect through my Lord below,
Gladly then from earth remove,
Gathered to the fold above.
O that I at last may stand
With the sheep at thy right hand,
Take the crown so freely given,
Enter in by thee to heaven!
poem by Charles Wesley
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Hymn XIII: Happy Soul that Free from Harms
Happy soul that free from harms
Rests within his Shepherd's arms!
Who his quiet shall molest?
Who shall violate his rest?
Jesus doth his spirit bear,
Jesus takes his every care;
He who found the wandering sheep,
Jesus still delights to keep.
O that I might so believe,
Steadfastly to Jesus cleave,
On his only love rely,
Smile at the destroyer nigh;
Free from sin and servile fear,
Have my Jesus ever near,
All his care rejoice to prove,
All his paradise of love!
Jesus, seek thy wandering sheep,
Bring me back, and lead, and keep;
Take on thee my every care,
Bear me, on thy bosom bear:
Let me know my Shepherd's voice,
More and more in thee rejoice,
More and more of thee receive,
Ever in thy Spirit live:
Live, till all thy life I know,
Perfect through my Lord below,
Gladly then from earth remove,
Gathered to the fold above.
O that I at last may stand
With the sheep at thy right hand,
Take the crown so freely given,
Enter in by thee to heaven!
poem by John Wesley
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Sonnet XIX
THe merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trompet shrill hath thrise already sounded:
that warnes al louers wayt vpon their king,
who now is comming forth with girland crouned.
With noyse whereof the quyre of Byrds resounded
their anthemes sweet devized of loues prayse,
that all the woods theyr ecchoes back rebounded,
as if they knew the meaning of their layes.
But mongst them all, which did Loues honor rayse
no word was heard of her that most it ought,
but she his precept proudly disobayes,
and doth his ydle message set at nought.
Therefore O loue, vnlesse she turne to thee
ere Cuckow end, let her a rebell be.
poem by Edmund Spenser
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Wise-Men
Who told you that Heaven is for free? ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! You better learn the laws and be free!
For the ticket to Heaven is to follow the laws.
The laws were made for our learning and,
Mankind need to follow them to gain Heaven!
For the Wise-Men followed the laws too and they met the Star.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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With A Golden Necklace
THIS page a chain to bring thee burns,
That, train'd to suppleness of old,
On thy fair neck to nestle, yearns,
In many a hundred little fold.
To please the silly thing consent!
'Tis harmless, and from boldness free;
By day a trifling ornament,
At night 'tis cast aside by thee.
But if the chain they bring thee ever,
Heavier, more fraught with weal or woe,
I'd then, Lisette, reproach thee never
If thou shouldst greater scruples show.
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Away In A Manger
Away in a manger, no crib for his bed,
The little Lord Jesus laid down his sweet head.
The stars in the sky looked down where he lay,
The little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
The cattle are lowing, the baby awakes,
But little Lord Jesus no crying he makes.
I love thee, Lord Jesus! Look down from the sky,
And stay by my cradle 'til morning is neigh.
Instrumental
Believe me, Lord Jesus, I asked thee to stay
Close by me forever and love me I pray
Bless all of the dear children in thy tender care
And take us to heaven to live with thee there...
song performed by by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Away In A Manger
(Traditional)
Away in a manger, no crib for his bed. The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head.
The stars in the sky looked down where he lay, the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
The cattle are lowing, the poor baby wakes. But little Lord Jesus, no crying he makes.
I love thee, Lord Jesus, look down from the sky and stay by my side till morning is nigh.
Be near me Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay close by me forever and love me, I pray.
Bless all the dear children in thy tender care and fit us for heaven to live with thee there.
Away in a manger, no crib for his bed. The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head.
The stars in the sky looked down where he lay, the little Lord Jesus asleep on the hay.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Onn Oure Ladies Chyrche
AS onn a hylle one eve sittynge,
At oure Ladie's Chyrche mouche wonderynge,
The counynge handieworke so fyne,
Han well nighe dazeled mine eyne;
Quod I; some counynge fairie hande
Yreer'd this chapelle in this lande;
Full well I wote so fine a syghte
Was ne yreer'd of mortall wighte.
Quod Trouthe; thou lackest knowlachynge;
Thou forsoth ne wotteth of the thynge.
A Rev'rend Fadre, William Canynge hight,
Yreered uppe this chapelle brighte;
And eke another in the Towne,
Where glassie bubblynge Trymme doth roun.
Quod I; ne doubte for all he's given
His sowle will certes goe to heaven.
Yea, quod Trouthe; than goe thou home,
And see thou doe as hee hath donne.
Quod I; I doubt; that can ne bee;
I have ne gotten markes three.
Quod Trouthe; as thou hast got, give almes-dedes soe;
Canynges and Gaunts culde doe ne moe.
poem by Thomas Chatterton
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Heaven found a way
Heaven found a way to make thee perfect one
That also came along with a Son
To put thee greatest love in side his heart
And held it strong to never part
To show a Lady were her Souls Heart could find
Thee closest thing of Heaven to bind
Thee strongest love of all
One could ever wish to have the chance to fall
In love complete souls mate of thee creator
Heaven found a way to finely save her
Sent his own garden angels to guide her way
To walk with her until thee day
Heavenly gifts placed in to her soul
To tell the world what first was told
So much faith placed in to ones heart
To heal thee world that falls apart
So with heavens strongest angels and gifts
Teachings and faith bring truth to all myths
Time slips closer to heavens final try
To heal the world that wants to die
Wings will flush and crush shadows sin
Awaken all life from with in
Heaven found a way
I as me in its entirety has the words to say
I walk with thee angels of heaven
And bring to all Thee Final day
To save the souls that heaven gave
And to shadows ending sin
For life to live once again!
I shall not fall i shall Win!
poem by Susan Covington
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Fairest Lord Jesus
Fairest Lord Jesus,
Ruler of all nature,
O Thou of God and man the Son,
Thee will I cherish, Thee will I honor,
Thou, my soul's glory, joy and crown.
Fair are the meadows, fairer still the woodlands,
Robed in the blooming garb of spring;
Jesus is fairer, Jesus is purer,
Who makes the woeful heart to sing.
Fair is the sunshine,
Fairer still the moonlight,
And all the twinkling starry host;
Jesus shines brighter, Jesus shines purer
Than all the angels heaven can boast.
All fairest beauty, heavenly and earthly,
Wondrously, Jesus, is found in Thee;
None can be nearer, fairer or dearer,
Than Thou, my Savior, art to me.
Beautiful Savior! Lord of all the nations!
Son of God and Son of Man!
Glory and honor, praise, adoration,
Now and forever more be Thine.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Make Me Rich
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
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Make me rich
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'Horns and tambourines'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
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Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'Congas'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
' And to the bridge'
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy
Purchase purchase buy buy.
'Lead/background singers and violins,
With bass! And give it...'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
'Gimme Gimme Gimme'
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
'YES...'
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
Make me rich
(Purchase purchase buy buy)
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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