Praise Of Creation
Creation fires my tongue!
Nature thy anthems raise;
And spread the universal song
Of thy Creator's praise!
Heaven's chief delight was Man
Before Creation's birth--
Ordained with joy to lead the van,
And reign the lord of earth.
When Sin was quite unknown,
And all the woes it brought,
He hailed the morn without a groan
Or one corroding thought.
When each revolving wheel
Assumed its sphere sublime,
Submissive Earth then heard the peal,
And struck the march of time.
The march in Heaven begun,
And splendor filled the skies,
When Wisdom bade the morning Sun
With joy from chaos rise.
The angels heard the tune
Throughout creation ring:
They seized their golden harps as soon
And touched on every string.
When time and space were young,
And music rolled along--
The morning stars together sung,
And Heaven was drown'd in song.
Ye towering eagles soar,
And fan Creation's blaze,
And ye terrific lion's roar,
To your Creator's praise.
Responsive thunders roll,
Loud acclamations sound,
And show your Maker's vast control
O'er all the worlds around.
Stupendous mountains smoke,
And lift your summits high,
To him who all your terrors woke,
Dark'ning the sapphire sky.
Now let my muse descend,
To view the march below--
Ye subterraneous worlds attend
And bid your chorus flow.
Ye vast volcanoes yell,
Whence fiery cliffs are hurled;
And all ye liquid oceans swell
Beneath the solid world.
Ye cataracts combine,
Nor let the pæan cease--
The universal concert join,
Thou dismal precipice.
But halt my feeble tongue,
My weary muse delays:
But, oh my soul, still float along
Upon the flood of praise!
poem by George Moses Horton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Psalm 148 Paraphrased
Universal praise to God.
Loud hallelujahs to the Lord,
From distant worlds where creatures dwell;
Let heav'n begin the solemn word,
And sound it dreadful down to hell.
The Lord, how absolute he reigns!
Let every angel bend the knee;
Sing of his love in heav'nly strains,
And speak how fierce his terrors be.
High on a throne his glories dwell,
An awful throne of shining bliss;
Fly through the world, O sun! and tell
How dark thy beams compared to his.
Awake, ye tempests, and his fame
In sounds of dreadful praise declare;
And the sweet whisper of his name
Fill every gentler breeze of air.
Let clouds, and winds, and waves agree
To join their praise with blazing fire;
Let the firm earth and rolling sea
In this eternal song conspire.
Ye flowery plains, proclaim his skill;
Valleys, lie low before his eye;
And let his praise from every hill
Rise tuneful to the neighb'ring sky.
Ye stubborn oaks, and stately pines,
Bend your high branches and adore:
Praise him, ye beasts, in diff'rent strains;
The lamb must bleat, the lion roar.
Birds, ye must make his praise your theme;
Nature demands a song from you;
While the dumb fish that cut the stream
Leap up, and mean his praises too.
Mortals, can you refrain your tongue,
When nature all around you sings?
O for a shout from old and young,
From humble swains and lofty kings!
Wide as his vast dominion lies
Make the Creator's name be known;
Loud as his thunder shout his praise,
And sound it lofty as his throne.
Jehovah! 'tis a glorious word:
O may it dwell on every tongue!
But saints, who best have known the Lord,
Are bound to raise the noblest song.
Speak of the wonders of that love
Which Gabriel plays on every chord:
From all below, and all above,
Loud hallelujahs to the Lord!
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 148
Proper Metre.
Praise to God from all creatures.
Ye tribes of Adam, join
With heav'n, and earth, and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your Creator's praise:
Ye holy throng
Of angels bright,
In worlds of light,
Begin the song.
Thou sun with dazzling rays,
And moon that rules the night,
Shine to your Maker's praise,
With stars of twinkling light:
His power declare,
Ye floods on high,
And clouds that fly
In empty air.
The shining worlds above
In glorious order stand,
Or in swift courses move,
By his supreme command:
He spake the word,
And all their frame
From nothing came,
To praise the Lord.
He moved their mighty wheels
In unknown ages past,
And each his word fulfils
While time and nature last:
In diff'rent ways
His works proclaim
His wondrous name,
And speak his praise.
PAUSE.
Let all the earth-born race,
And monsters of the deep
The fish that cleave the seas,
Or in their bosom sleep;
From sea and shore
Their tribute pay,
And still display
Their Maker's power.
Ye vapors, hail, and snow,
Praise ye th' almighty Lord,
And stormy winds that blow,
To execute his word:
When lightnings shine,
Or thunders roar,
Let earth adore
His hand divine.
Ye mountains near the skies,
With lofty cedars there,
And trees of humbler size,
That fruit in plenty bear;
Beasts wild and tame,
Birds, flies, and worms,
In various forms,
Exalt his name.
Ye kings and judges, fear
The Lord, the sovereign King;
And while you rule us here,
His heav'nly honors sing;
Nor let the dream
Of power and state
Make you forget
His power supreme.
Virgins and youths, engage
To sound his praise divine,
While infancy and age
Their feebler voices join:
Wide as he reigns
His name be sung
By every tongue
In endless strains.
Let all the nations fear
The God that rules above;
He brings his people near,
And makes them taste his love:
While earth and sky
Attempt his praise,
His saints shall raise
His honors high.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Body Violin Voices Sing In Heaven
flesh is but an instrument of thy will
normally in form case left unplayed
musicians free so choose instruments
to suit a mood styles orchestra played
not so is music of spheres found in heaven
music spontaneous bursts forth instant glee
everywhere souls in bliss sing souls hymns
music in rainbow sound stirs vibrant heaven
melody times solo compositions heart writ
played to honour master composers purpose
notes crystal pure music songs angels voice
who in hosts listen worship serve God praise
in heaven all creation sings in praise of God
in every voice form style tone heart rhythm
millions individualistic praise as souls may
yet all voice song tune unique worships God
all in heaven are body violin to trumpet songs
all in heaven sing in all voices unique creation
styles differ as snowflakes do soul heart longs
worship in love one true creator of all creation
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Song For St. Cecilia's Day, At Oxford
I.
Cecilia, whose exalted hymns
With joy and wonder fill the blest,
In choirs of warbling seraphims
Known and distinguish'd fom the rest;
Attend, harmonious saint, and see
Thy vocal sons of harmony;
Attend, harmonious saint, and hear our prayers;
Enliven all our earthly airs,
and, as thou sing'st thy God, teach us to sing of thee:
Tune every string and every tongue,
Be thou the Muse and subject of our song.
II.
Let all Cecilia's praise proclaim,
Enploy the echo in her name.
Hark how the flutes and trumpets raise,
At bright Cecilia's name, their lays;
The organ labours in her praise.
Cecilia's name does all our numbers grace,
From every voice the tuneful accents fly,
In soaring trebles now it rises high,
And now it sinks, and dwells upon the base.
Cecilia's name through all the notes we sing,
The work of every skilful tongue
The sound of every trembling string,
The sound and triumph of our song.
III.
For ever consecrate the day,
To music and Cecilia;
Music, the greatest good that mortals know,
And all of heaven we have below.
Music can noble hints impart,
Engender fury, kindle love;
With unsuspected eloquence can move,
And manage all the man with secret art.
When Orpheus strikes the trembling lyre
The streams stand still, the stones admire;
The listening savages advance,
The world and lamb around him trip
The bears in aukward measures leap,
And tigers mingle in the dance
The moving woods attended as he played
And Rhodope was left without a shade.
IV.
Music religious heats inspires,
It wakes the soul, and lifts it high,
And wings it with sublime desires,
And fits it to bespeak the Deity.
Th' Almighty listens to a tuneful tongue,
And seems well-pleas'd and courted with a song.
Soft moving sounds and heavenly airs
Give forece to every word, and recommend our prayers
When time itself shall be no more,
And all things in confusion hurl'd,
Music shall then exert its power,
And sound survive the ruins of the world:
Then saints and angels shall agree
In one eternal jubilee:
All heaven shall echo with their hymns divine,
And God himself with pleasure see
The whole creation in a chorus join.
C H O R U S.
Consecrate the place and day,
To music and Cecilia Let no rough winds approach, nor dare
Invade the hallow'd bounds,
Nor rudely shake the tuneful air,
Nor spoil the fleeting sounds.
Nor mournful sigh nor groan be heard,
But gladness dwell on every tongue;
Whilst all, with voice and strings prepar'd,
Keep u; the loud harmonious song.
And imitate the blest above,
In joy, and harmony, and love.
poem by Joseph Addison
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Pride In Heaven
On heaven's ethereal plain,
Where hostile rage ambition first begun,
When the arch rebel strove himself to reign
And take Jehovah's throne.
Swift to the fight the seraphim
On floods of pride were seen to swim,
And bold defy the power supreme,
And thus their God disown.
High on a dome of state,
From azure fields he cast his daring eye,
Licentious trains his magazines await,
At whose command they fly.
The gloom excludes celestial charms,
When all the angels rush to arms,
Heaven shakes beneath the vast alarms,
And earth begins to sigh.
Eternal mountains move,
And seven-fold thunders rock the hills below,
While starry throngs desert the worlds above,
Beneath Jehovah's brow.
O Lucifer, thou morning son,
To glut thy pride what hast thou done?
Sing, O ye heavens, the plague is gone,
And weep, thou earth, for woe.
Creation felt the fall,
And trembling nature heav'd a dismal groan;
For that rebellion brought her into thrall,
She must her fate bemoan;
See angels fall no more to rise,
And feed the worm that never dies;
No ear of grace can hear their cries,
And hoarse lamenting tone.
Weak nature lay exposed,
And felt the wound in pleasing hate conceal'd;
And, void of fear, the secret charm disclosed
Which ev'ry ill reveal'd.
The venom struck through ev'ry vein,
And every creature felt the pain;
But undefiled a lamb was slain,
By which the wound was heal'd.
poem by George Moses Horton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today... 'The First and Last
Before the creation had taken its place.
Before the beginning of this earthly race.
Before the heavens and the earth came to be.
Before the dawn of human history.
Before the tick of the seconds of time began
Then the Triune God formed salvations plan.
The Son of God at the very beginning stood.
and commenced all of creation by His word.
There is no one to compare with You my Lord
for You forever will be the living Word.
The One Who is the Son of Man walked on earth
Who came to us from heaven by virgin birth.
The Alpha and Omega is First and Last
was at the beginning and will time outlast.
Alive before time and creation began
and when history unfolded became a man.
Each chapter of earth and human history
has been encompassed between eternity.
For the Fathers' Eternally Begotten Son
stands outside of time as the Everlasting One.
The Alpha and Omega, the First and Last
all the years of time within Your hands You grasp.
from everlasting to everlasting the same
The Almighty God Jehovah is Your name.
When time shall cease and the sun no longer rise
When Christ has come with His glory in the skies.
When the ransomed called to reign with Him on high
and with all the angels 'hallelujah' cry.
When all the atomic clocks have ticked their last.
When matter has disappeared into the past.
When the new heaven and earth in sight appears.
There You shall still stand outlasting all the years.
The Eternal God and Everlasting Lord
by heaven and earth and forever adored.
There at Your feet all men shall fall as though dead
before Heaven's King and Everlasting Head.
And there at Your feet I shall willingly fall
before my King of Glory and Lord of All.
And then as I feel the touch of Your right hand
I shall rise up at the sound of Your command.
When the worlds are no more and all time shall cease
there You shall reign and Your kingdom shall increase
and I shall be there gazing into Your face
washed and clothed in righteousness by Your grace.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box below)
Psalm CXLVIII
Come, oh! come, with sacred lays,
Let us sound th' Almighty's praise;
Hither bring in true concent,
Heart, and voice, and instrument.
Let the orpharion sweet,
With the harp and viol meet:
To your voices tune the lute:
Let not tongue nor string be mute;
Nor a creature dumb be found,
That hath cither voice or sound.
Let such things as do not live,
In still music praises give:
Lowly pipe, ye worms that creep
On the earth or in the deep;
Loud aloft your voices strain,
Beasts and monsters of the main,
Birds, your warbling treble sing;
Clouds, your peals of thunder ring;
Sun and moon exalted higher,
And you, stars, augment the choir.
Come, ye sons of human race,
In this chorus take your place,
And amid this mortal throng,
Be you masters of the song.
Angels and celestial powers,
Be the noblest tenor yours.
Let, in praise of God, the sound
Run a never-ending round;
That our holy hymn may be
Everlasting, as is He.
From the earth's vast hollow womb,
Music's deepest bass shall come.
Sea and floods, from shore to shore,
Shall the counter-tenor roar.
To this concert, when we sing,
Whistling winds, your descant bring:
Which may bear the sound above,
Where the orb of fire doth move;
And so climb from sphere to sphere,
Till our song th' Almighty hear.
So shall He from heaven's high tower
On the earth His blessing shower;
All this huge wide orb we see,
Shall one choir, one temple be;
There our voices we will rear,
Till we fill it everywhere:
And enforce the fiends that dwell
In the air to sink to hell.
Then, oh! come, with sacred lays,
Let us sound th' Almighty's praise.
poem by George Wither
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
God
If to hold life
With its beauty
And qualities
Is religion!
God, where are you as a creator?
If we have doubt in
Hell and heaven
But believe in you
Without those
What creator are you?
If we are born
Again, again
Due to our sin
Then who resides in
Hell and heaven?
Matters are to be seen
As they are creation,
They want to see you,
As the creator too.
Unseen is nothing to them
So they accept creation
Without the creator,
God, be spontaneous and automatic
Behave like infinity
Without start and end
As they created this logic
Behind the creation!
poem by Abdul Wahab
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 57
Praise for protection, grace, and truth.
My God, in whom are all the springs
Of boundless love, and grace unknown,
Hide me beneath thy spreading wings,
Till the dark cloud is overblown.
Up to the heav'ns I send my cry,
The Lord will my desires perform;
He sends his angel from the sky,
And saves me from the threat'ning storm.
Be thou exalted, O my God,
Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell;
Thy power on earth be known abroad,
And land to land thy wonders tell.
My heart is fixed; my song shall raise
Immortal honors to thy name;
Awake, my tongue, to sound his praise,
My tongue, the glory of my frame.
High o'er the earth his mercy reigns,
And reaches to the utmost sky;
His truth to endless years remains,
When lower worlds dissolve and die.
Be thou exalted, O my God,
Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell;
Thy power on earth be known abroad,
And land to land thy wonders tell.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Hymn
These, as they change, Almighty Father, these
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring
Thy beauty walks, Thy tenderness and love.
Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles,
And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Then comes Thy glory in the summer months,
With light and heart refulgent. Then Thy sun
Shoots full perfection thro' the swelling year;
And of Thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks-
And oft at dawn, deep noon, or falling eve,
By brooks and groves, in hollow-whisp'ring gales.
Thy bounty shines in autumn unconfin'd,
And spreads a common feast for all that lives.
In Winter, awful Thou! with clouds and storms
Around Thee thrown, tempest o'er tempest roll'd,
Majestic darkness! on the whirlwind's wing,
Riding sublime, Thou bidst the world adore;
And humblest Nature with Thy northern blast.
Mysterious round! what skill, what force divine,
Deep felt, in these appear! a simple train,
Yet so delightful mix'd, with such kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;
Shade, unperceiv'd, so soft'ning into shade,
And all so forming an harmonious whole,
That they still succeed, they ravish still.
But wand'ring oft, with brute unconscious gaze,
Man marks not Thee, marks not the mighty hand,
That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres;
Works in the secret deep; shoots, steaming, thence
The fair profusion that o'erspreads the spring;
Flings from the sun direct the flaming day;
Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth;
And, as on earth this grateful change revolves,
With transport touches all the springs of life.
Nature, attend! join every living soul,
Beneath the spacious temple of the sky,
In adoration join! and, ardent, raise
One general song! To Him, ye vocal gales,
Breathe soft, whose Spirit in your freshness breathes:
Oh talk of Him in solitary glooms!
Where, o'er the rock, the scarcely waving pine
Fills the brown shade with a religious awe.
And ye, whose bolder note is heard afar,
Who shake the astonished world, lift high to heaven
The impetuous song, and say from whom you rage.
His praise, ye brooks, attune, ye trembling rills;
And let me catch it as I muse along.
Ye headlong torrents, rapid, and profound;
Ye softer floods, that lead the humid maze
Along the vale; and thou, majestic main,
A secret world of wonders in thyself,
Sound His stupendous praise - whose greater voice
Or bids you roar, or bids your roarings fall.
Soft-roll your incense, herbs, and fruits, and flowers,
In mingled clouds to Him - whose sun exalts,
Whose breath perfumes you, and whose pencil paints.
Ye forests bend, ye harvests wave, to Him;
Breathe your still song into the reaper's heart,
As home he goes beneath the joyous moon.
Ye that keep watch in heaven, as earth asleep
Unconcious lies, effuse your mildest beams,
Ye constellations, while your angels strike,
Amid the spangled sky, the silver lyre.
Great source of day! best image here below
Of thy Creator, ever pouring wide,
From world to world, the vital ocean round,
On Nature write with every beam His praise.
The thunder rolls: be hushed the prostrate world;
While cloud to cloud returns the solemn hymn.
Bleat out afresh, ye hills; ye mossy rocks,
Retain the sound: the broad responsive low,
Ye valleys, raise; for the Great Shepherd reigns;
And His unsuffering kingdom yet will come.
Ye woodlands all, awake: a boundless song
Burst from the groves; and when the restless day,
Expiring, lays the warbling world asleep,
Sweetest of birds! sweet Philomela, charm
The listening shades, and teach the night His praise.
Ye, chief, for whom the whole creation smiles,
At once the head, the heart, and tongue of all,
Crown the great hymn! in swarming cities vast,
Assembled men, to the deep organ join
The long-resounding voice, oft-breaking clear,
At solemn pauses, through the swelling base;
And, as each mingling flame increases each,
In one united ardour rise to heaven.
Or if you rather choose the rural shade,
And find a fane in every sacred grove;
There let the shepherd's flute, the virgin's lay,
The prompting seraph, and the poet's lyre,
Still sing the God of Seasons, as they roll.
For me, when I forget the darling theme,
Whether the blossom blows, the Summer-ray
Russets the plain, inspiring Autumn gleams,
Or Winter rises in the blackening east,
Be my tongue mute - my fancy paint no more,
And, dead to joy, forget my heart to beat!
Should fate command me to the farthest verge
Of the green earth, to distant barb'rous climes,
Rivers unknown to song - where first the sun
Gilds Indian mountains, or his setting beam
Falmes on th' Atlantic isles - 'tis nought to me:
Since God is ever present, ever felt,
In the void waste as in the city full;
And where He vital breathes there must be joy.
When ev'n at last the solemn hour shall come,
And wing my mystic flight to future worlds,
I cheerful will obey; there, with new pow'rs,
Will rising wonders sing: I cannot go
Where Universal Love not smiles around,
Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns;
From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still,
In infinite progression.- But I lose
Myself in Him, in light ineffable!
Come then, expressive silence, muse His praise.
poem by James Thomson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Paraphrase Of Psalm: CXLVIII
Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord from the heavens: praise him in the heights.
PRAISE ye the Lord! on every height
Songs to his glory raise!
Ye angel-hosts, ye stars of light,
Join in immortal praise!
Oh! heavens of heavens! let praise far-swelling
From all your orbs be sent!
Join in the strain, ye waters, dwelling
Above the firmament!
For His the word which gave you birth,
And majesty, and might;
Praise to the Highest from the earth,
And let the deeps unite!
Oh! fire and vapor, hail and snow,
Ye servants of His will!
Oh! stormy winds, that only blow
His mandates to fulfil;
Mountains and rocks, to heaven that rise;
Fair cedars of the wood;
Creatures of life, that wing the skies,
Or track the plains for food;
Judges of nations! kings, whose hand
Waves the proud sceptre high!
Oh! youths and virgins of the land,
Oh! age and infancy!
Praise ye His name, to whom alone
All homage should be given;
Whose glory, from th' eternal throne
Spreads wide o'er earth and heaven!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silent Witness
Look up at the vast universe and see
the heavens proclaiming God's majesty.
For throughout the whole world the stars declare
God's greatness and His loving care.
There's no place in which their voice is not heard
For they speak in tongues not confined to words.
For each star in that vast heaven so bright
shines out for His Glory every night.
All throughout the night their anthem they raise
singing to God their great chorus of praise.
As we listen to what they have to say
join with their praise as we walk on our way.
Lifting our spirit to heaven above
praising the Lord for His mercy and love.
Palm Sunday
Ye whose hearts are beating high
With the pulse of Poesy,
Heirs of more than royal race,
Fram’d by Heaven’s peculiar grace,
God’s own work to do on earth,
(If the word be not too bold,)
Giving virtue a new birth,
And a life that ne’er grows old—
Sovereign masters of all hearts!
Know ye, who hath set your parts?
He who gave you breath to sing,
By whose strength ye sweep the string,
He hath chosen you, to lead
His Hosannas here below;—
Mount, and claim your glorious meed;
Linger not with sin and woe.
But if ye should hold your peace,
Deem not that the song would cease—
Angels round his glory-throne,
Stars, His guiding hand that own,
Flowers, that grow beneath our feet,
Stones in earth’s dark womb that rest,
High and low in choir shall meet,
Ere His Name shall be unblest.
Lord, by every minstrel tongue
Be thy praise so duly sung,
That thine angels’ harps may ne’er
Fail to find fit echoing here:
We the while, of meaner birth,
Who in that divinest spell
Dare not hope to join on earth,
Give us grace to listen well.
But should thankless silence seal
Lips, that might half Heaven reveal,
Should bards in idol-hymns profane
The sacred soul-enthralling strain,
(As in this bad world below
Nobles things find vilest using,)
Then, thy power and mercy shew,
In vile things noble breath infusing;
Then waken into sound divine
The very pavement of thy shrine,
Till we, like Heaven’s star-sprinkled floor,
Faintly give back what we adore.
Childlike though the voices be,
And untunable the parts,
Thou wilt own the minstrelsy,
If it flow from childlike hearts.
poem by John Keble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ignoring Creation’s Witness
Look about you, what do you see, creation about us abundantly,
From the sky above, to the ground, God’s Creation is all around;
From the grass plush and green, to blue sky above every scene,
God’s Creation all about the earth, is evidence of Creation’s birth.
When God spoke, it had begun; creating this world, with His Son,
As God continued for six days, with all Creation, to God’s Praise;
Saying, as God capped His Plan, in Our Image, let us create man,
Finishing Creation with His best, on day seven He then would rest.
Now with Creation set in place, it continues this day by His Grace,
While producing all kinds of life, to be sustained by Jesus Christ;
Nature from God pleasing to the eye, from the ground to the sky,
Birds, animals and vegetation, all produced within God’s Creation.
Nothing at all, has evolved, except minds, which haven’t resolved,
What to do with all God’s Truth, to validate a theory with no proof,
With an evolving, darkened mind, they leave logical Truths behind,
Deceiving, while being deceived, God’s Truth, they never believed.
But, even if God, these men refuse, all men will be without excuse,
Whatever theory these men claim, they’ll hang their head in shame,
For our Creator won’t be mocked, and they’ll be eternally shocked,
As they depart from His Majesty, to enter a darker, eternal destiny.
(Copyright ©04/2010)
Noah's Flood (excerpts)
Eternal and all-working God, which wast
Before the world, whose frame by Thee was cast,
And beautified with beamful lamps above,
By thy great wisdom set how they should move
To guide the seasons, equally to all,
Which come and go as they do rise and fall.
My mighty Maker, O do thou infuse
Such life and spirit into my labouring Muse,
That I may sing (what but from Noah thou hid'st)
The greatest thing that ever yet thou didst
Since the creation; that the world may see
The Muse is heavenly and deriv'd from Thee.
O let Thy glorious Angel which since kept
That gorgeous Eden, where once Adam slept,
When tempting Eve was taken from his side,
Let him great God not only be my guide,
But with his fiery faucheon still be nie,
To keep affliction far from me, that I
With a free soul thy wondrous works may show,
Then like that deluge shall my numbers flow,
Telling the state wherein the earth then stood,
The giant race, the universal flood.
...
poem by Michael Drayton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 103 part 3
v.19-22
S. M.
God's universal dominion; or, Angels praise the Lord.
The Lord, the sovereign King,
Hath fixed his throne on high;
O'er all the heav'nly world he rules,
And all beneath the sky.
Ye angels, great in might,
And swift to do his will,
Bless ye the Lord, whose voice ye hear,
Whose pleasure ye fulfil.
Let the bright hosts who wait
The orders of their King,
And guard his churches when they pray,
Join in the praise they sing.
While all his wondrous works
Through his vast kingdom show
Their Maker's glory, thou, my soul,
Shalt sing his graces too.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Hymn
To the Almighty on his radiant Throne,
Let endless Hallelujas rise!
Praise Him, ye wondrous Heights to us unknown,
Praise Him, ye Heavens unreach'd by mortal Eyes,
Praise Him, in your degree, ye sublunary Skies!
Praise Him, you Angels that before him bow,
You Creatures of Celestial frame,
Our Guests of old, our wakeful Guardians now,
Praise Him, and with like Zeal our Hearts enflame,
Transporting then our Praise to Seats from whence you came!
Praise Him, thou Sun in thy Meridian Force;
Exalt Him, all ye Stars and Light!
Praise Him, thou Moon in thy revolving Course,
Praise Him, thou gentler Guide of silent Night,
Which do's to solemn Praise, and serious Thoughts invite.
Praise Him, ye humid Vapours, which remain
Unfrozen by the sharper Air;
Praise Him, as you return in Show'rs again,
To bless the Earth and make her Pastures fair:
Praise Him, ye climbing Fires, the Emblems of our Pray'r.
Praise Him, ye Waters petrify'd above,
Ye shredded Clouds that fall in Snow,
Praise Him, for that you so divided move;
Ye Hailstones, that you do no larger grow.
Nor, in one solid Mass, oppress the World below.
Praise Him, ye soaring Fowls, still as you fly,
And on gay Plumes your Bodies raise;
You Insects, which in dark Recesses lie,
Altho' th' extremest Distances you try,
Be reconcil'd in This, to offer mutual Praise.
Praise Him, thou Earth, with thy unbounded Store;
Ye Depths which to the Center tend:
Praise Him ye Beasts which in the Forests roar;
Praise Him ye Serpents, tho' you downwards bend,
Who made your bruised Head our Ladder to ascend.
Praise Him, ye Men whom youthful Vigour warms;
Ye Children, hast'ning to your Prime;
Praise Him, ye Virgins of unsullied Charms,
With beauteous Lips becoming sacred Rhime:
You Aged, give Him Praise for your encrease of Time.
Praise Him, ye Monarchs in supreme Command,
By Anthems, like the Hebrew Kings;
Then with enlarged Zeal throughout the Land
Reform the Numbers, and reclaim the Strings,
Converting to His Praise, the most Harmonious Things.
Ye Senators presiding by our Choice,
And You Hereditary Peers!
Praise Him by Union, both in Heart and Voice;
Praise Him, who your agreeing Council steers,
Producing sweeter Sounds than the according Spheres.
Praise Him, ye native Altars of the Earth!
Ye Mountains of stupendious size!
Praise Him, ye Trees and Fruits which there have birth,
Praise Him, ye Flames that from their Bowels rise,
All fitted for the use of grateful Sacrifice.
He spake the Word; and from the Chaos rose
The Forms and Species of each Kind:
He spake the Word, which did their Law compose,
And all, with never ceasing Order join'd,
Till ruffl'd for our Sins by his chastising Wind.
But now, you Storms, that have your Fury spent,
As you his Dictates did obey,
Let now your loud and threatening Notes relent,
Tune all your Murmurs to a softer Key,
And bless that Gracious Hand, that did your Progress stay.
From my contemn'd Retreat, obscure and low,
As Grots from when the Winds disperse,
May this His Praise as far extended flow;
And if that future Times shall read my Verse,
Tho' worthless in it self, let them his Praise rehearse.
poem by Anne Kingsmill Finch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Songs of Praise the Angels Sang
Songs of praise the angels sang,
Heav’n with alleluias rang,
When creation was begun,
When God spoke and it was done.
Songs of praise awoke the morn
When the Prince of Peace was born;
Songs of praise arose when He
Captive led Captivity.
Heav’n and earth must pass away!
Songs of praise shall crown that day!
God will make new heav’ns and earth;
Songs of praise shall hail their birth.
And can man alone be dumb,
Till that glorious kingdom come?
No: the church delights to raise
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise.
Saints below, with heart and voice,
Still in songs of praise rejoice,
Learning here, by faith and love,
Songs of praise to sing above.
Borne upon their latest breath,
Songs of praise shall conquer death;
Then amidst eternal joy,
Songs of praise their powers employ.
Hymns of glory, songs of praise,
Father, unto Thee we raise;
Jesus, glory unto Thee,
With the Spirit, ever be.
poem by James Montgomery
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Praise Unto The Lord
Lord Jesus is worthy to be praised, for by God's Power, He was raised,
Jesus died for sinners like you and me, to give mortal man life eternally,
He was buried, rose from the grave; with that power, men God will save,
All those who believe in Jesus Christ, God shall raise up unto a new life.
Our praise, belongs to only Him, Who came to save this world from sin,
Sent from Heaven to the sinful earth, to offer mortal man a second birth,
The Eternal Son, sent by God, to be man's Savior upon this earthly sod,
He came to serve, not to be served, so all our praise to Him is deserved.
All man’s praise He's deserving of, for all His unmerited Grace and Love,
He bestows on undeserving men, whose praise returned will have no end.
We deserved only His Righteous Wrath, for we were on a darkened path,
And yet He sent Grace to all men, in a dark world that stood condemned.
Deserving all praise and much more, for not only is He God's open Door,
To God’s Salvation as our Savior, but, Christ is also our Lord and Creator,
Eternal Creator of every single soul, Who came to us to make men whole,
Coming to earth as God’s Sacrifice, willing to pay for us, sin’s awful price.
All nations will praise The Lamb of God, Who shall return with an Iron Rod;
From the stones our Lord could raise, children who would give Him praise,
Even if no one on earth understands, the trees alone shall clap their hands,
This, when Christ Jesus returns again, as Creator God and Lord of all men.
(Copyright ©01/2009)