Devi Kanthimathi
'Nellaiappa, bless me with thy consort'
The Lord but showed me a way to resort
I now move on to a vestibule adjacent
My heart for Devi squalling out
Discern the divine voltage of that circuit
Anxious my vision tries its ken out
Soon censed with ambrosial Aippasi-wedding eclat
I see the Goddess with Her consort
Astounded, my soul butts my heart
Spate of memoirs reverberates my thought
'Ablutionary Thamiraparani surging at the Lord's feet
Marriage of Venuvananathar, Agasthya to ruminate..'
Wonderful Kanthimathi's radiant fit
Beckoned Shiva no wonder to spirit
Causal Her name, Kanthimathi magnetisig brilliant
Bewitching everyone Her cognizant might
Ecstatic soul adjures to entreat
Extolling tangibly Kanthimathi refulgent
Availing such a holy moment
A train of pleas purges out
'Devi, wailing in darkness my life nescient
In need for a quest to recuperate
Empty brain ingrained only woeful dirt
Deterge with thine mercy to right
Detain thyself with me throughout
Watchful then to vanquish mine conceit
Harken Kanthimathi, order thine heart
And this instance thee in sweet content
May thine Lord too be attendant '
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Related quotes
Mine Eyes Beg Sight Of Thee
Mine eyes beg sight of thee; mine mind begs, thought;
Mine heart begs consort with thee-for us to be what we ought;
Mine arms beg thine own body, in loving embrace-
Contrariwise, mine own body begs of same, face to face!
Mine own soul begs for thine, as its mate-
Our re-acquaintance made as was, through the powers of fate;
Mine whole life begs for thine own beauty's attestation:
As I bide still, I ruminate upon my futurity's celebration.
Until this time, when we shall meet my beloved, fair thee well:
May we both one day be the story that we lovingly tell.
All that I am begs for all that you are-
In a world with myriad resplendence, you are its brightest star!
Query not why it is that I covet thee as I do,
Ponder only: that in the morrow, more of same shall be gifted, to you!
poem by Maurice Harris
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Hymn XXVII: Saviour, the World's and Mine
Saviour, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine!
Thou my pain, my curse hast took,
All my sins were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord; to thee I look,
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
'Tis done! my God hath died;
My Love is crucified!
Break, this stony heart of mine;
Pour, mine eyes, a ceaseless flood;
Feel, my soul, the pangs divine;
Catch, my heart, the issuing blood!
When, O my God, shall I
For thee submit to die?
How the mighty debt repay?
Rival of thy passion prove?
Lead me in thyself, the Way;
Melt my hardness into love.
To love is all my wish,
I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,
There by faith for ever dwell;
This I always will require,
Thee, and only thee, to feel.
Thy power I pant to prove,
Rooted and fixed in love;
Strengthened by thy Spirit's might,
Wise to fathom things divine,
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine.
Ah! give me this to know,
With all thy saints below;
Swells my soul to compass thee,
Gasps in thee to live and move;
Filled with all the Deity,
All immersed and lost in love!
poem by John Wesley
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Hymn XXVII: Saviour, the World's and Mine
Saviour, the world's and mine,
Was ever grief like thine!
Thou my pain, my curse hast took,
All my sins were laid on thee;
Help me, Lord; to thee I look,
Draw me, Saviour, after thee.
'Tis done! my God hath died;
My Love is crucified!
Break, this stony heart of mine;
Pour, mine eyes, a ceaseless flood;
Feel, my soul, the pangs divine;
Catch, my heart, the issuing blood!
When, O my God, shall I
For thee submit to die?
How the mighty debt repay?
Rival of thy passion prove?
Lead me in thyself, the Way;
Melt my hardness into love.
To love is all my wish,
I only live for this;
Grant me, Lord, my heart's desire,
There by faith for ever dwell;
This I always will require,
Thee, and only thee, to feel.
Thy power I pant to prove,
Rooted and fixed in love;
Strengthened by thy Spirit's might,
Wise to fathom things divine,
What the length, and breadth, and height,
What the depth of love like thine.
Ah! give me this to know,
With all thy saints below;
Swells my soul to compass thee,
Gasps in thee to live and move;
Filled with all the Deity,
All immersed and lost in love!
poem by Charles Wesley
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To Mine Heart's Captor
To mine heart's captor: thou knowest who for art thou!
With its absquatulation complete, what art thine plans now?
Art thine intentions altruistic and pure-
May thine jollity, these intentions, ensure?
Might thine heart be exalted in consort with mine?
If thee were to seek its consult, how would it opine?
Love knows not impediments, it lasts and grows forever;
Come with me, my beloved, we shall live this truth, together!
Have not thee thought of me, fondly, in mine absence?
The gift of our love is proof of His Divine Benevolence!
Walk this journey called life with me by thine side;
Mine unceasing love shall always, and e'er, be supplied-
For so long as thou art enamored by this offer;
First though, you need remove thine heart from its coffer!
-Maurice Harris,16 May 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Sonnet: The Holy Cross
O, Let me carry Thine Cross in some way!
Though weary yet, O Let me help Thee, Lord;
O, Let me share the weight of sins, I pray;
And let me show the world, Love’s Cross and word.
Thine Cross is life to sinners world-over;
Thine Cross is Light to ones blinded sans faith;
I want to live God as Thine Cross-lover!
To follow Thee, my Lord, if Thou sayeth.
O how, I wish my soles could tread Thine path;
O how, I wish my shoulders bear Thine weight!
O Let my soul be cleansed by Thine blood-bath!
Usher me Lord, before it could grow late!
O Let me Lord, prevent Thee from one fall!
O answer me Lord, hasten to my call!
poem by John Celes
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A Thanksgiving Prayer to God
Almighty God, to Thee I pray,
And thank Thee for all things this day,
I had received in ample way;
Let glory be to Thee, Aye! Aye!
I am a human being mere;
I sin often and always err;
Forgive me Lord, my God, I plead,
A better life, may I still lead.
This day is almost over, Lord!
I’m sorry if I broke accord;
Without Thine mercy, love O God,
My life gets thrown into discord.
My every want, Thou providest;
My praises, thanks, I offer best;
Ignore my iniquities Lord;
Afill my heart, mind with Thine word.
O let my lips utter good words,
And let my tongue not turn like swords,
And let me labor for Thine sake,
And dispel ignorance and ache.
The good I did all came from Thee
The bad surfaced from within me;
O help me do my duty well,
And always toll the success bell!
O fill this vessel, Lord, I pray,
With gifts that I can share today,
With downtrodden brethren around,
And men and women, poor, unsound.
O bless my solitude always;
Let devils not invade my days;
So bless my deeds and mundane ways,
Miraculously most, in case.
O take away my pride, O Lord;
I long to live in Thine accord;
Rescue me from each temptation
That takes me nearer Damnation.
Provide me Lord, with Thine insight;
Thou art my only way, truth, light;
Let love for Thee burn always bright,
From dawn till dusk, and through the night.
My fallacies are not just mine;
O keep me off women and wine;
This bread will do; my health is fine;
My soul with grace must always shine.
O Lord, now bless this bread I eat;
And keep my body, heart, soul, neat,
And walking in heavenly grace,
With wisdom, piety-filled face.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-17-2008
poem by John Celes
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Kaumaram-4
Swamimalai-fourth of the six special
abodes of Lord Muruga
Be so the cause for Brahma's imprisonment
Nescient be Rishi Brigu's angst
Nescient even Thine father be
So angst Thine on nescience be
Cause be so for Thine preaching
So, so high up the sixty stairs crowned
O'Swaminatha, well, fair in aloof dignity
In sylvan pride upping more on an elephant
Fatherly to Thine father, a Guru Thyself be
In dazzling dangling decibels of 'Pranava'
Bow like bowing father Thine adown to hearken
Won't Thee to the flighting crescendo 'Vel Vel Vetrivel'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Sonnet: Be Grateful to God
O Let my heart be loyal to Thee Lord,
My Creator and Maker of this world!
My Omnipotent, Omniscient God,
The mystery of mysteries unheard!
How can I ever repay Thy love, God?
Unfathomable love that made my soul!
And everything goes by Thy grace and Thine word,
In Heaven and on earth, from pole to pole.
No matter how the devil’s tempt me Lord,
Despite the many times, their prey I fall,
My soul get’s healed by Thy grace and Thine word,
And listens thereafter to Thine one call.
So, let my soul forever thank Thee, Lord,
Thou art my Savior, Friend and only God.
poem by John Celes
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When at Thy Footstool, Lord, I Bend
When at Thy footstool, Lord, I bend,
And plead with Thee for mercy there,
Think of the sinner’s dying Friend,
And for His sake receive my prayer.
O think not of my shame and guilt,
My thousand stains of deepest dye;
Think of the blood which Jesus spilt,
And let that blood my pardon buy.
Think, Lord, how I am still Thine own,
The trembling creature of Thy hand;
Think how my heart to sin is prone,
And what temptations round me stand.
O think upon Thy holy Word,
And every plighted promise there;
How prayer should evermore be heard,
And how Thy glory is to spare.
O think not of my doubts and fears,
My strivings with Thy grace divine;
Think upon Jesus’ woes and tears,
And let His merits stand for mine.
Thine eyes, Thine ear, they are not dull;
Thine arm can never shortened be;
Behold me here; my heart is full;
Behold, and spare, and succor me.
poem by Henry Francis Lyte
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Preparatory Meditations - First Series: 6.
(Canticles 2:1. The Lily of the Valleys)
Am I Thy gold? Or purse, Lord, for Thy wealth;
Whether in mine or mint refined for Thee?
I'm counted so, but count me o'er Thyself,
Lest gold-washed face, and brass in heart I be.
I fear my touchstone touches when I try
Me, and my counted gold too overly.
Am I new-minted by Thy stamp indeed?
Mine eyes are dim; I cannot clearly see.
Be Thou my spectacles that I may read
Thine image do upon me stand,
I am a golden angel in Thy hand.
Lord, make my soul Thy plate: Thine image bright
Within the circle of the same enfoil.
And on its brims in golden letters write
Thy superscription in an holy style.
Then I shall be Thy money, Thou my hoard:
Let me Thy angel be, be Thou my Lord.
poem by Edward Taylor
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Bitter and Sweet
Kindle, Saviour, in my heart,
A flame of love divine;
Hear, for mine I trust thou art,
And sure I would be thine;
If my soul has felt thy grace,
If to me thy name is known;
Why should trifles fill the place
Due to thyself alone?
'Tis a strange mysterious life
I live from day to day;
Light and darkness, peace and strife,
Bear an alternate sway:
When I think the battle won,
I have to fight it o'er again;
When I say I'm overthrown,
Relief I soon obtain.
Often at the mercy-seat,
While calling on thy name,
Swarms of evil thoughts I meet,
Which fill my soul with shame.
Agitated in my mind,
Like a feather in the air,
Can I thus a blessing find?
My soul, can this be pray'r?
But when Christ, my Lord and Friend,
Is pleas'd to show his pow'r
All at once my troubles end,
And I've a golden hour;
Then I see his smiling face,
Feel the pledge of joys to come:
Often, Lord, repeat this grace
Till thou shalt call me home.
poem by John Newton
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O, This Is Blessing, This Is Rest
O, this is blessing, this is rest
Unto Thine arms, O Lord, I flee:
I hide me in Thy faithful breast,
And pour out all my soul to Thee.
There is a host dissuading me,
But, all their voices far above,
I hear Thy words — “O taste and see
The comfort of a Savior's love.
And, hushing every adverse sound,
Songs of defence my soul surround,
As if all saints encamped about
One trusting heart pursued by doubt,
And O, how solemn, yet how sweet
Their one assured, persuasive strain!
The Lord of hosts is thy retreat,
The Man who bore thy sin, thy pain.
Still in His hand thy times remain
Still of his body thou art part;
And He will prove his right to reig
O'er all things that concern thy heart.
O tenderness O truth divine!
Lord, I am altogether thine.
I have bowed down I need not flee
Peace, peace is mine in trusting Thee.
And now I count supremely kind,
The rule that once I thought severe;
And, precious to my altered mind,
At length, Thy least reproofs appear.
Now to the love that casts out fear,
Mercy and truth, indeed seem one;
Why should I hold my ease so dear?
The work of training must be done,
I must be taught what I would know
I must be led where I would go
And all the rest ordained for me,
Till that which is not seen I see
Is to be found in trusting Thee.
poem by Anna Laetitia Waring
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Clasping of Hands
LORD, Thou art mine, and I am Thine,
If mine I am; and Thine much more
Then I or ought or can be mine.
Yet to be Thine doth me restore,
So that again I now am mine,
And with advantage mine the more,
Since this being mine brings with it Thine,
And Thou with me dost Thee restore:
If I without Thee would be mine,
I neither should be mine nor Thine.
Lord, I am Thine, and Thou art mine;
So mine Thou art, that something more
I may presume Thee mine then Thine,
For Thou didst suffer to restore
Not Thee, but me, and to be mine:
And with advantage mine the more,
Since Thou in death wast none of Thine,
Yet then as mine didst me restore:
O, be mine still; still make me Thine;
Or rather make no Thine and Mine.
poem by George Herbert
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Kaumaram-3
Palani-third of the six special
abodes of Lord Murugan
Those hosannas'Muruganukku arohara, Kandhanukku arohara'
Thine mightiness in 'Kaavadi' of Thine beneficence
Heightened Shivagiri, Shakthigiri on hauling up drumming
Evanesced now, divine Thine anger puerile
Won Thine fruit of Truth in ripened fruition
Devout Thine fanatics with ecstatic 'Aroharas'
O'Lord, behold, jiggling Thine abode
Humble Thine sentinel Idumban smothered
Thronging cheers of 'vel, vel, vetri vel'
Hail to Thine dulcet bliss of kingly presence
Why then this recluse..esconce in Thine golden charriot
We haul with 'Muruganukku Arohara, Kandhanukku Arohara'
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Psalm 5
For the Lord's Day Morning.
Lord, in the morning thou shalt hear
My voice ascending high;
To thee will I direct my prayer,
To thee lift up mine eye;
Up to the hills where Christ is gone
To plead for all his saints,
Presenting at his Father's throne
Our songs and our complaints.
Thou art a God, before whose sight
The wicked shall not stand;
Sinners shall ne'er be thy delight,
Nor dwell at thy right hand.
But to thy house will I resort,
To taste thy mercies there;
I will frequent thine holy court,
And worship in thy fear.
O may thy Spirit guide my feet
In ways of righteousness!
Make every path of duty straight,
And plain before my face.
PAUSE.
My watchful enemies combine
To tempt my feet astray;
They flatter, with a base design
To make my soul their prey.
Lord, crush the serpent in the dust,
And all his plots destroy;
While those that in thy mercy trust,
For ever shout for joy.
The men that love and fear thy name
Shall see their hopes fulfilled;
The mighty God will compass them
With favor as a shield.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Thee will I praise, O Lord, in light,
Thee will I praise, O Lord, in light,
Where seraphim surround thy throne;
With heart and soul, with mind and might,
Thee will I worship, Thee alone.
Thou, Lord, above all height art high
Yet with the lowly wilt Thou dwell;
The proud far off, thy jealous eyes
Shall mark, and with a look repel.
Though in the depth of trouble thrown,
With grief I shall not always strive;
Thou wilt thy suffering servants own,
And Thou the contrite heart revive.
Thy purpose then in me fulfil;
Forsake me not, for I am thine;
Perfect in me thine utmost will;
Whate'er it be, that will be mine.
poem by James Montgomery
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Harvest Hymn
Mens Voices:
LORD of the lotus, lord of the harvest,
Bright and munificent lord of the morn!
Thine is the bounty that prospered our sowing,
Thine is the bounty that nurtured our corn.
We bring thee our songs and our garlands for tribute,
The gold of our fields and the gold of our fruit;
O giver of mellowing radiance, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Surya, with cymbal and flute.
Lord of the rainbow, lord of the harvest,
Great and beneficent lord of the main!
Thine is the mercy that cherished our furrows,
Thine is the mercy that fostered our grain.
We bring thee our thanks and our garlands for tribute,
The wealth of our valleys, new-garnered and ripe;
O sender of rain and the dewfall, we hail thee,
We praise thee, Varuna, with cymbal and pipe.
Womens Voices:
Queen of the gourd-flower, queen of the har- vest,
Sweet and omnipotent mother, O Earth!
Thine is the plentiful bosom that feeds us,
Thine is the womb where our riches have birth.
We bring thee our love and our garlands for tribute,
With gifts of thy opulent giving we come;
O source of our manifold gladness, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Prithvi, with cymbal and drum.
All Voices:
Lord of the Universe, Lord of our being,
Father eternal, ineffable Om!
Thou art the Seed and the Scythe of our harvests,
Thou art our Hands and our Heart and our Home.
We bring thee our lives and our labours for tribute,
Grant us thy succour, thy counsel, thy care.
O Life of all life and all blessing, we hail thee,
We praise thee, O Bramha, with cymbal and prayer
poem by Sarojini Naidu
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Sonnet: Soul-wise Advice
Cut off the thought, O man, if bad for thee!
Thine soul is more important than body;
Cut off the branches, vicious trunk wholly;
How long can sin give joy just like toddy?
Cut of the sinful habits haunting thee;
They devastate thine life on earth and soul;
Cut off their roots and all of them fully;
They sprout to cause havoc just like the ‘mole’.
Avoid the environs that promote sin;
Indulge in holy thoughts and do good deeds;
Empty thy heart and soul’s sinful bin;
And raise good crops for sowing virtue’s seeds.
Renounce the devils or you land in Hell;
Trust in the Lord and all things will be well.
5-25-2002 by Dr John Celes
poem by John Celes
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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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Sonnet: We Can See God
The Sun looks like Thine heart afilled with joy;
0 God, the Rain is like Thine compassion;
The Moon appears like Thine face as when coy;
The Galaxies are like divine Mansion.
The quadrillion stars look like Heaven's eyes;
The thunder seems to be Thine angry voice;
The Lightning is Thine pow'r of sample size,
The songs of birds akin Thine happy noise.
The verdure spring looks like Thine beauteous face;
The winter cold is Thine heart's discontent;
The summer’s yield is sign of Thine own pace;
The autumn’s wind appears to be Thine vent.
The earth is footstool for Thine lovely feet;
Thine Replica is Mother Nature sweet.
poem by John Celes
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