The snake
Lord, when the leviathan rose
out of the dark depths
of the raging sea
uncoiling itself
twisting to strike at Thee,
Thy mighty great sword
stroke the serpent dragon
piercing and slaying it
and to this day I wonder
what this creature could be,
as no such creature have being seen.
While some speculate on crocodile
as being too powerful to be caught
like a fish,
or killed by man with a spear, sword or harpoon
having a neck, strong frame, nostrils
and scales
it doesn’t truly fit the picture
as it doesn’t live in the ocean
or dwell in the sea
and Canaanite mythology
tells of a seven headed primeval monster
untwisting itself to fight Thee.
l’Envoi
Yet still more the snake from the tree
took a bite at Thee
and Thy sacrifice
set all men free.
[References: Isaiah 27: 1, Ps 74: 14, Job 41: 1-33, A cylinder seal from Tell Asmar, Genisis 3: 15,2 Esdras 6: 49-52. ]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Related quotes
Desiring to Be Given up to God
That my heart was right with thee,
And lov'd thee with a perfect love!
O that my Lord would dwell in me,
And never from his seat remove!
Jesus, remove th' impending load,
And set my soul on fire for God!
Thou seest I dwell in awful night
Until thou in my heart appear;
Kindle the flame, O Lord, and light
Thine everlasting candle there:
Thy presence puts the shadows by;
If thou art gone, how dark am I!
Ah! Lord, how should thy servant see,
Unless thou give me seeing eyes?
Well may I fall, if out of thee;
If out of thee, how should I rise?
I wander, Lord, without thy aid,
And lose my way in midnight's shade.
Thy bright, unerring light afford,
A light that gives the sinner hope;
And from the house of bondage, Lord,
O bring the weary captive up,
Thine hand alone can set me free
And reach my pardon out to me.
O let my prayer acceptance find,
And bring the mighty blessing down;
With eye-salve, Lord, anoint the blind,
And seal me thine adopted son:
A fallen, helpless creature take,
And heir of thy salvation make.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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A Wayward Rose
Mischievous rose from the rose-tree swaying,
Can I not bind thee nor hold thee?
Can I not weave thee nor fold thee
In with thy sisters to staying?
Vain is my passion or praying,
Rose from the rose-tree swaying.
Wayward sweet rose from the rose-tree swinging,
Can I not pass thee, forget thee?
Can I not see to regret thee?
In—'mid thy kindred's close ringing,
Out—to my heart she comes winging,
Rose from the rose-tree swinging.
Cruel red rose from the rose-tree swaying,
Ever to worship thee, throne thee,
Never to lose thee or own thee,
Thy beauty to keep me from straying,
Thy thorns for my passionate praying,
Rose from the rose-tree swaying.
poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter
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Marriage: Stages to be fololwed
First, marriage should be love
all encompassing, total, and free.
Love that grows stronger each day
soft murmurs of Thee, Thee, Thee.
Second, marriage should be sacrifice
giving of self, regardless of reward.
Gift gladly given, with open heart
shielded from life's harsh sword.
Third, marriage should be commitment
utter loyalty, deep to the bone.
Absolutely, no questions asked
faithfully promised, never alone.
Lastly, marriage should be forever
family bonded, yet all still free.
Lives joined with love, sacrifice, and commitment
an eternity promised with -
Thee, Thee, Thee
poem by Mahfooz Ali
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If I Forget Thee
If I forget thee! How shall I forget thee?
Sword of the mighty! Prince and Lord of War!
Captive I bind me
To the spears that blind me,
Rage in my heart and love for evermore.
If I forget thee! How shall I forget thee?
Man the destroyer! Life that made mine move!
They that come after
Let them earn my laughter,
Ay, but my anger, never, nor my love.
If I forget thee! How should I forget thee?
One man there is no woman dares despise.
Hate him it may be,
Wound him if the way be,
Nay, but forget him? Not before she dies!
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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The Night Piece, To Julia
Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,
The shooting stars attend thee;
And the elves also,
Whose little eyes glow
Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee.
No Will-o'-th'-Wisp mis-light thee,
Nor snake or slow-worm bite thee;
But on, on thy way,
Not making a stay,
Since ghost there's none to affright thee.
Let not the dark thee cumber;
What though the moon does slumber?
The stars of the night
Will lend thee their light,
Like tapers clear without number.
Then Julia let me woo thee,
Thus, thus to come unto me;
And when I shall meet
Thy silv'ry feet,
My soul I'll pour into thee.
poem by Robert Herrick
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The Leviathan
Far deeper than the thundering waves,
at a unfathomable depth
where there is about no visibility
and night encompasses everything
and the pressure will crush
a human being
lies the Leviathan with no interest
but only to feed at times
from the blind fish, cuttlefish
and some sea creatures
and some men have sworn
that in times of storm
it crawls from the hole
at the bottom of the sea
and they have seen one of
its red crests riding a wave
and believe that it snaps ships
with its huge seven heads
filled with stone-like teeth
and when the storms subsides
it goes back and lies
in the depths from where it came
where it sleeps until the day
that its reckoning comes
and awaken
as a red seven headed snake-dragon
it will rise and in battle be slain
by Michael and his angels.
[References: The Kraken by Lord Tennyson, The Sea-Serpent Chanty by Vachel Lindsay, Psalm 104: 26, Isa.27: 1. Rev 12: 3, Ras Shamrah Vol. I, pp.128,129.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Thee, Thee, Only Thee
The dawning of morn, the daylight's sinking,
The night's long hours still find me thinking
Of thee, thee, only thee.
When friends are met, and goblets crown'd,
And smiles are near, that once enchanted,
Unreach'd by all that sunshine round,
My soul, like some dark spot, is haunted
By thee, thee, only thee.
Whatever in fame's high path could waken
My spirit once, is now forsaken
For thee, thee, only thee.
Like shores, by which some headlong bark
To the ocean hurries, resting never,
Life's scenes go by me, bright or dark,
I know not, heed not, hastening ever
To thee, thee, only thee.
I have not a joy but of thy bringing,
And pain itself seems sweet when springing
From thee, thee, only thee.
Like spells, that nought on earth can break,
Till lips, that know the charm, have spoken,
This heart, howe'er the world may wake
Its grief, its scorn, can but be broken
By thee, thee, only thee.
poem by Thomas Moore
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I Will Not Let Thee Go
I will not let thee go.
Ends all our month-long love in this?
Can it be summed up so,
Quit in a single kiss?
I will not let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
If thy words' breath could scare thy deeds,
As the soft south can blow
And toss the feathered seeds,
Then might I let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
Had not the great sun seen, I might;
Or were he reckoned slow
To bring the false to light,
Then might I let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
The stars that crowd the summer skies
Have watched us so below
With all their million eyes,
I dare not let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
Have we chid the changeful moon,
Now rising late, and now
Because she set too soon,
And shall I let thee go?
I will not let thee go.
Have not the young flowers been content,
Plucked ere their buds could blow,
To seal our sacrament?
I cannot let thee go.
I will not let thee go.
I hold thee by too many bands:
Thou sayest farewell, and lo!
I have thee by the hands,
And will not let thee go.
poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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Delight In God Only
I love (and have some cause to love) the earth;
She is my Maker's creature, therefore good:
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse; she gives me food;
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with Thee?
Or what's my mother, or my nurse to me?
I love the air; her dainty fruits refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouth'd choirs sustain me with their flesh.
And with their polyphonian notes delight me:
But what's the air, or all the sweets that she
Can bless my soul withal, compared to Thee?
I love the sea; she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor; she provides me store;
She walls me round; she makes my diet greater;
She wafts my treasure from a foreign shore:
But, Lord of oceans, when compared with Thee,
What is the ocean, or her wealth to me?
To heaven's high city I direct my journey,
Whose spangled suburbs entertain mine eye;
Mine eye, by contemplation's great attorney,
Transcends the crystal pavement of the sky.
But what is heaven, great God, compared to Thee?
Without Thy presence, heaven's no heaven to me.
Without Thy presence, earth gives no reflection:
Without Thy presence, sea affords no treasure;
Without Thy presence, air's a rank infection;
Without Thy presence, heaven itself no pleasure:
If not possess'd, if not enjoyed in Thee,
What's earth, or sea, or air, or heaven to me?
The highest honours that the world can boast,
Are subjects far too low for my desire;
Its brightest gleams of glory are, at most,
But dying sparkles of Thy living fire:
The brightest flames that earth can kindle, be
But nightly glowworms, if compared to Thee.
Without Thy presence, wealth is bags of cares;
Wisdom, but folly; joy, disquiet, sadness;
Friendship is treason, and delights are snares;
Pleasures, but pain; and mirth, but pleasing madness:
Without Thee, Lord, things be not what they be,
Nor have their being when compared with Thee.
In having all things, and not Thee, what have I?
Not having Thee, what have my labours got?
Let me enjoy but Thee, what have my labours got?
And having Thee alone, what have I not?
I wish nor sea nor land; nor would I be
Possess'd of heaven, heaven unpossess'd of Thee.
poem by Francis Quarles
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Mary Magdalene
While the dark night folds around me
I wait on Thee,
who could speak
and sent the storm
back into the sea.
At times I wonder where my love
for Thee started,
or was I made with it,
that Though dark brown eyes
could know the dark depths of my heart
and could touch like no other
and could heal me
and make me completely free from all sin
and I was happy.
With every stroke that the hammer makes
against the cross of wood
and every nail that tears
right through Thy body,
I knew pain
like never before
and in my soul
the dark depths died
with Thy death
At a time even my pomegranate red lips
and round full breasts
made no impression on Thee
and Thy holiness
and unconditional love
touched deep into my heart,
so that I washed Thy feet
with ointment of nard
and in humility used my hair
to dry the feet
of the Son of God.
While the morning sun
rises red on the horizon
I wait on Thee,
to come back to this earth
as king and supreme Lord.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Psalm 17
You have tested my heart
In the depths of the night
My transgressions are gone
From you they take flight
You have tried me oh Lord
Refined in your fire
I fell exceedingly low
But you lifted me higher
Under the shadow of your wings
I have taken my place
I hide myself in thee
As I gaze into your face
You arose and delivered
By your mighty sword
Strong is your right arm
In your presence and Word.
poem by Frank McEleny
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Bible in Poetry: Revelation 6
The Seals:
1As I was watching Lamb open
The first of seven seals, by then,
I heard one of the creatures four
Utter in voice like thunder, 'Come! '
2 I looked, and there before me stood
A horse, all white! rider with bow;
He was given a crown, and then,
He rode out like a conqueror,
With mind and heart, on conquest bent.
3When Lamb opened the second seal,
The second creature said then, 'Come! '
4 A fiery horse, all red came out!
And to its rider was given,
The pow’r to take off peace from earth,
And make men slay one another.
To him was given a large sword.
5When Lamb opened the third seal then,
I heard the third creature say, 'Come! '
I looked, and there before me stood
A horse, all black! Its rider held
A pair of scales in his one hand.
6And then, I heard a voice amongst
The four living creatures, saying,
'A quart of wheat for a day's wage;
Three quarts of barley, for a day's wage;
Do not damage the oil and wine! '
7When Lamb opened the fourth seal then,
I heard the fourth creature say, 'Come! '
8 I looked, and lo, before me stood,
A horse, all pale! rider named Death;
Hades followed him, closely behind.
They’ere given the power to kill,
Over a fourth of the earth’s men,
By sword, plague, famine, and wild beasts.
9 And when He opened the fifth seal,
I saw under the altar, souls
Of those, who had been slain because
Of testimony to God’s Word,
That they ‘ad maintained until their end.
10They all called out in loud a voice,
'How long, Lord, Sovereign, holy, true,
Until You judge the earth’s peoples,
Avenging blood of ours, they shed? '
11 Each one received a robe of white,
And told to wait a bit longer,
Until the number of fellow
Servants and brothers to be killed,
Was completed as expected.
12 And when He opened the sixth seal,
There was a great earthquake on earth.
The sun had turned so black, as if
It was a sack-cloth of goat-hair,
And moon in full had turned blood-red,
13 And stars from sky fell onto earth,
Like late figs dropping from fig-tree,
When shaken by a strong, fierce wind.
14 The sky then rolled up like a scroll,
And every mountain and island,
Was taken off its place on globe.
15The earth’s kings, princes and generals,
The rich, the mighty, and all slaves,
And every free man hid in caves,
And ’mongst the rocks of the mountains.
16They called the mountains and the rocks,
'Oh, fall on us and hide us please,
From face of Him, who sits on throne,
And from the wrath of Lamb of God!
17For, Day of wrath great has now come,
And who can ever, ever stand? '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-14-2007
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet XXIX: I Think of Thee
I think of thee!--my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee,as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see
Except the straggling green which hides the wood.
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better! Rather, instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee
Drop heavily down,--burst, shattered, everywhere!
Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee
And breathe within thy shadow a new air,
I do not think of thee--I am too near thee.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Sonnet XXIX
I think of thee !--my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there 's nought to see
Except the straggling green which hides the wood.
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better ! Rather, instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee
Drop heavily down,--burst, shattered, everywhere !
Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee
And breathe within thy shadow a new air,
I do not think of thee--I am too near thee.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Xxix
I think of thee !--my thoughts do twine and bud
About thee, as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there 's nought to see
Except the straggling green which hides the wood.
Yet, O my palm-tree, be it understood
I will not have my thoughts instead of thee
Who art dearer, better ! Rather, instantly
Renew thy presence; as a strong tree should,
Rustle thy boughs and set thy trunk all bare,
And let these bands of greenery which insphere thee
Drop heavily down,--burst, shattered, everywhere !
Because, in this deep joy to see and hear thee
And breathe within thy shadow a new air,
I do not think of thee--I am too near thee.
poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Ode to the dragon
I was inspired to express my love for dragons in old-English.
This ode which is called an irregular ode glorifies the dragon.
In Asiatic cultures, dragons are worshiped for their wisdom and longevity.
Though thy teeth be sharp, and thy claws great, waste not thy strength on me,
for thy beauty doth pierce mine heart worse than any wound.
Do not waste thy breath upon me, for I burn already a passion far greater than I can bear.
Oh dragon, hold back not thine beauty from mine eyes any longer, spread thy wings for me, let me see thy grace, thy majesty, thy glory complete!
Though thy scales turn away the sword, they can not turn away my love for thee.
Though thy wings block the sun, they can not block mine thoughts so bright of thee.
Though thy eyes stare death, I...only have eyes... for thee.
(3: 23 AM.01,23,10)
poem by Jacob Ellinger
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Shall Earth No More Inspire Thee
Shall Earth no more inspire thee,
Thou lonely dreamer now ?
Since passion may not fire thee
Shall nature cease to bow ?
Thy mind is ever moving
In regions dark to thee;
Recall its useless roving -
Come back and dwell with me -
I know my mountain breezes
Enchant annd soothe thee still -
I know my sunshine pleases
Despite thy wayward will -
When day with evening blending
Sinks from the summer sky,
I've seen thy spirit bending
In fond idolotry -
I've watched thee every hour -
I know my mighty sway -
I know my magic power
To drive thy griefs away -
Few hearts to mortal given
On earth so wildly pine
Yet none would ask a Heaven
More like this Earth than thine -
Then let my winds caress thee -
Thy comrade let me be -
Since nought beside can bless thee
Return and dwell with me -
poem by Emily Jane Brontë
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The Curse of Kehama
I charm thy life,
From the weapons of strife,
From stone and from wood,
From fire and from flood,
From the serpent’s tooth,
And the beast of blood.
From sickness I charm thee,
And time shall not harm thee;
But earth, which is mine,
Its fruits shall deny thee;
And water shall hear me,
And know thee and flee thee:
And the winds shall not touch thee
When they pass by thee,
And the dews shall not wet thee
When they fall nigh thee.
And thou shalt seek death,
To release thee, in vain;
Thou shalt live in thy pain,
While Kehama shall reign,
With a fire in thy heart,
And a fire in thy brain.
And sleep shall obey me,
And visit thee never,
And the curse shall be on thee
Forever and ever.
poem by Robert Southey
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Suttee
LAMP of my life, the lips of Death
Hath blown thee out with their sudden breath;
Naught shall revive thy vanished spark . . .
Love, must I dwell in the living dark?
Tree of my life, Death's cruel foot
Hath crushed thee down to thy hidden root;
Nought shall restore thy glory fled . . .
Shall the blossom live when the tree is dead?
Life of my life, Death's bitter sword
Hath severed us like a broken word,
Rent us in twain who are but one . .
Shall the flesh survive when the soul is gone?
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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De Profundis
NOW I am cast into the serpent pit
And, catching difficult breath
From the writhing, loathsome, ceaseless stir of it,
The venomous whispers of curling, clasping Death,
I lift my soul out of the pit to Thee
And reaching with my soul to where Thou art
Look down, seeing with free heart
The beast God gave my soul for company
Lie with companions fit;
And bid, with a good will,
The serpent-fangs of ill
Take their foul fill
Of the foul fell it wore.
Though a thousand serpent heads were raised to slay,
A thousand twisting coils writhed where it lay,
There lies the beast, there let it lie for me
And agonize and rave;
For Thou has raised my soul, Thy soul, to Thee!
Thy soul, dear Lord, Thou hast been strong to save!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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