Nothing Formed In Vain
Let no presuming impious railer tax
Creative wisdom, as if aught was form'd
In vain, or not for admirable ends.
Shall little haughty ignorance pronounce
His works unwise, of which the smallest part
Excceeds the narrow vision of her mind?
As if, upon a full-proportion'd dome,
On swelling columns heav'd, the pride of art!
A critic-fly, whose feeble ray scarce spreads
An inch around, with blind presumption bold,
Should dare to tax the structure of the whole.
And lives the man, whose universal eye
Has swept at once th' unbounded scheme of things;
Mark'd their dependence so, and firm accord,
As with unfalt'ring accent to conclude,
That this availeth nought? Has any seen
The mighty chain of beings, less'ning down
From infinite perfection, to the brink
Of dreary nothing, desolate abyss!
From which astonish'd thought, recoiling, turns?
Till then alone let zealous praise ascend,
And hymns of holy wonder, to that Power,
Whose wisdom shines as lovely in our minds,
As on our smiling eyes his servant-sun.
poem by James Thomson
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Psalm 101
The magistrate's Psalm.
Mercy and judgment are my song;
And since they both to thee belong,
My gracious God, my righteous King,
To thee my songs and vows I bring.
If I am raised to bear the sword,
I'll take my counsels from thy word;
Thy justice and thy heav'nly grace
Shall be the pattern of my ways.
Let wisdom all my actions guide,
And let my God with me reside;
No wicked thing shall dwell with me
Which may provoke thy jealousy.
No sons of slander, rage, and strife
Shall be companions of my life;
The haughty look, the heart of pride,
Within my doors shall ne'er abide.
[I'll search the land, and raise the just
To posts of honor, wealth, and trust;
The men that work thy holy will
Shall be my friends and fav'rites still.]
In vain shall sinners hope to rise
By flatt'ring or malicious lies;
And while the innocent I guard,
The bold offender sha'n't be spared.
The impious crew, that factious band,
Shall hide their heads or quit the land;
And all that break the public rest,
Where I have power, shall be suppressed.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 170
God incomprehensible and sovereign.
[Can creatures to perfection find
Th' eternal, uncreated Mind?
Or can the largest stretch of thought
Measure and search his nature out?
'Tis high as heav'n, 'tis deep as hell
And what can mortals know or tell?
His glory spreads beyond the sky,
And all the shining worlds on high.
But man, vain man, would fain be wise;
Born like a wild young colt, he flies
Through all the follies of his mind,
And swells, and snuffs the empty wind.]
God is a King of power unknown,
Firm are the orders of his throne;
If he resolve, who dares oppose,
Or ask him why or what he does?
He wounds the heart, and he makes whole
He calms the tempest of the soul;
When he shuts up in long despair,
Who can remove the heavy bar?
He frowns, and darkness veils the moon;
The fainting sun grows dim at noon;
The pillars of heav'n's starry roof
Tremble and start at his reproof.
He gave the vaulted heav'n its form,
The crooked serpent, and the worm;
He breaks the billows with his breath,
And smites the sons of pride to death.
These are a portion of his ways;
But who shall dare describe his face?
Who can endure his light, or stand
To hear the thunders of his hand?
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm XXXIII: Rejoice, Ye Righteous
Rejoice, ye righteous, in the Lord,
This work belongs to you;
Sing of his name, his ways, his word,
How holy, just, and true.
His mercy and his righteousness
Let heav'n and earth proclaim;
His works of nature and of grace
Reveal his wondrous name.
His wisdom and almighty word
The heav'nly arches spread,
And by the Spirit of the Lord
Their shining hosts were made.
He bid the liquid waters flow
To their appointed deep;
The flowing seas their limits know
And their own station keep.
Ye tenants of the spacious earth,
With fear before him stand;
He spake, and nature took its birth,
And rests on his command.
He scorns the angry nations' rage,
And breaks their vain designs;
His counsel stands through ev'ry age,
And in full glory shines.
Blessed is the nation where the Lord
Hath fixed his gracious throne,
Where he reveals his heav'nly word,
And calls their tribes his own.
His eye with infinite survey
Does the whole world behold;
He formed us all of equal clay,
And knows our feeble mould.
Kings are not rescued by the force
Of armies from the grave;
Nor speed nor courage of a horse
Can the bold rider save.
Vain is the strength of beasts or men,
To hope for safety thence;
But holy souls from God obtain
A strong and sure defense.
God is their fear, and God their trust;
When plagues or famine spread,
His watchful eye secures the just
Among ten thousand dead.
Lord, let our hearts in thee rejoice,
And bless us from thy throne;
For we have made thy word our choice,
And trust thy grace alone.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 168
The Divine Perfections.
Jehovah reigns, his throne is high,
His robes are light and majesty;
His glory shines with beams so bright,
No mortal can sustain the sight.
His terrors keep the world in awe;
His justice guards his holy law;
His love reveals a smiling face;
His truth and promise seal the grace.
Through all his works his wisdom shines,
And baffles Satan's deep designs;
His power is sovereign to fulfil
The noblest counsels of his will.
And will this glorious Lord descend
To be my Father and my Friend?
Then let my songs with angels join;
Heav'n is secure, if God be mine.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Say not the struggle nought availeth
Arthur Hugh Clough
1819-1869
a glosa
Say not the struggle nought availeth
the labour and the wounds are vain.
The enemy faints not nor faileth.
As things have been, things will remain
Say not the struggle nought availeth.
though we must battle constantly.
Exposed to light the darkness fadeth
for those who have the eyes to see.
The labour and the wounds are vain
the human heart resilient
in time will overcome the pain.
This truth becomes self evident.
The enemy faints not nor faileth.
We have to trade them blow for blow
.Although his malice he sustaineth
he dare not let his terror show.
A things have been, things will remain
the fight goes on continually.
Despite the hardship and the pain
in time we’ll claim the victory.
05/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Psalm 33 part 1
Works of creation and providence.
Rejoice, ye righteous, in the Lord,
This work belongs to you;
Sing of his name, his ways, his word,
How holy, just, and true!
His mercy and his righteousness
Let heav'n and earth proclaim;
His works of nature and of grace
Reveal his wondrous name.
His wisdom and almighty word
The heav'nly arches spread,
And by the Spirit of the Lord
Their shining hosts were made.
He bid the liquid waters flow
To their appointed deep;
The flowing seas their limits know,
And their own station keep).
Ye tenants of the spacious earth,
With fear before him stand
He spake, and nature took its birth,
And rests on his command.
He scorns the angry nations' rage,
And breaks their vain designs;
His counsel stands through every age,
And in full glory shines.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Echoes Of Love's House
Love gives every gift whereby we long to live
“Love takes every gift, and nothing back doth give.”
Love unlocks the lips that else were ever dumb:
“Love locks up the lips whence all things good might come.”
Love makes clear the eyes that else would never see:
“Love makes blind the eyes to all but me and thee.”
Love turns life to joy till nought is left to gain:
“Love turns life to woe till hope is nought and vain.”
Love, who changest all, change me nevermore!
“Love, who changest all, change my sorrow sore!”
Love burns up the world to changeless heaven and blest,
“Love burns up the world to a void of all unrest.”
And there we twain are left, and no more work we need:
“And I am left alone, and who my work shall heed?”
Ah! I praise thee, Love, for utter joyance won!
“And is my praise nought worth for all my life undone?”
poem by William Morris
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Hymn to Adversity
Daughter of Jove, relentless Power,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge and tort'ring hour
The Bad affright, afflict the Best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain
The Proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple Tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy Sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, designed,
To thee he gave the heav'nly Birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged Nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore:
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know,
And from her own she learned to melt at others' woe.
Scared at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing Folly's idle brood,
Wild Laughter, Noise, and thoughtless Joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse, and with them go
The summer Friend, the flatt'ring Foe;
By vain Prosperity received,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believed.
Wisdom in sable garb arrayed
Immersed in rapt'rous thought profound,
And Melancholy, silent maid
With leaden eye, that loves the ground,
Still on thy solemn steps attend:
Warm Charity, the gen'ral Friend,
With Justice, to herself severe,
And Pity dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.
Oh, gently on thy Suppliant's head,
Dread Goddess, lay thy chast'ning hand!
Not in thy Gorgon terrors clad,
Not circled with the vengeful Band
(As by the Impious thou art seen),
With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien,
With screaming Horror's funeral cry,
Despair, and fell Disease, and ghastly Poverty.
Thy form benign, O Goddess, wear,
Thy milder influence impart,
Thy philosophic Train be there
To soften, not to wound my heart.
The gen'rous spark extinct revive,
Teach me to love and to forgive,
Exact my own defects to scan,
What others are, to feel, and know myself a Man.
poem by Thomas Gray
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Ode IX: At Study
I.
Whither did my fancy stray?
By what magic drawn away
Have I left my studious theme?
From this philosophic page,
From the problems of the sage,
Wandering thro' a pleasing dream?
II.
'Tis in vain alas! i find,
Much in vain, my zealous mind
Would to learned wisdom's throne
Dedicate each thoughtful hour:
Nature bids a softer power
Claim some minutes for his own.
III.
Let the busy or the wise
View him with contemptuous eyes;
Love is native to the heart:
Guide its wishes as you will;
Without Love you'll find it still
Void in one essential part.
IV.
Me though no peculiar fair
Touches with a lover's care;
Though the pride of my desire
Asks immortal friendship's name,
Asks the palm of honest fame,
And the old heroic lyre;
V.
Though the day have smoothly gone,
Or to letter'd leisure known,
Or in social duty spent;
Yet at eve my lonely breast
Seeks in vain for perfect rest;
Languishes for true content.
poem by Mark Akenside
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The Incomprehensible
FAR in the Heavens my God retires:
My God, the mark of my desires,
And hides his lovely face;
When he descends within my view,
He charms my reason to pursue,
But leaves it tir’d and fainting in th’ unequal chase.
Or if I reach unusual height
Till near his presence brought,
There floods of glory check my flight,
Cramp the bold pinions of my wit,
And all untune my thought;
Plunged in a sea of light I roll,
Where wisdom, justice, mercy, shines;
Infinite rays in crossing lines
Beat thick confusion on my sight, and overwhelm my soul.…
Great God! behold my reason lies
Adoring: yet my love would rise
On pinions not her own:
Faith shall direct her humble flight,
Through all the trackless seas of light,
To Thee, th’ Eternal Fair, the infinite Unknown.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 147 part 1
The Divine nature, providence, and grace.
Praise ye the Lord; 'tis good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praise;
His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem,
And gathers nations to his name;
His mercy melts the stubborn soul,
And makes the broken spirit whole.
He formed the stars, those heav'nly flames;
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wisdom's vast, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drowned.
Great is our Lord, and great his might;
And all his glories infinite:
He crowns the meek, rewards the just,
And treads the wicked to the dust.
PAUSE.
Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who spreads his clouds all round the sky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.
He makes the grass the hills adorn,
And clothes the smiling fields with corn;
The beasts with food his hands supply,
And the young ravens when they cry.
What is the creature's skill or force,
The sprightly man, the warlike horse,
The nimble wit, the active limb?
All are too mean delights for him.
But saints are lovely in his sight,
He views his children with delight;
He sees their hope, he knows their fear,
And looks, and loves his image there.
poem by Isaac Watts
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True wisdom is less presuming than folly. The wise man doubteth often, and changeth his mind the fool is obstinate, and doubteth not he knoweth all things but his own ignorance.
True wisdom is less presuming than folly. The wise man doubteth often, and changeth his mind; the fool is obstinate, and doubteth not; he knoweth all things but his own ignorance.
An Evening Walk in Spring
IT was but some few nights ago
I wandered down this quiet lane;
I pray that I may never know
The feelings then I felt, again.
The leaves were shining all about,
You might almost have seen them springing;
I heard the cuckoo’s simple shout,
And all the little birds were singing.
It was not dull, the air was clear,
All lovely sights and sounds to deal,
My eyes could see, my ears could hear,
Only my heart, it would not feel;
And yet that it should not be so,
My mind kept telling me within;
Though nought was wrong that I did know,
I thought I must have done some sin.
For I am sure as I can be,
That they who have been wont to look
On all in Nature’s face they see,
Even as in the Holy Book;
They who with pure and humble eyes
Have gazed and read her lessons high,
And taught their spirits to be wise
In love and human sympathy,—
That they can soon and surely tell
When aught has gone amiss within,
When the mind is not sound and well,
Nor the soul free from taint of sin.
For as God’s Spirit from above,
So Beauty is to them below,
And when they slight that holy love,
Their hearts that presence may not know.
So I turned home the way I came,
With downcast looks and heavy heart,
A guilty thing and full of shame,
With a dull grief that had no smart.
It chanced when I was nearly there
That all at once I raised my eyes—
Was it a dream, or vision rare,
That then they saw before them rise?
I see it now, before me here,
As often, often I have done,
As bright as it could then appear,
All shining in the setting sun.
Elms, with their mantling foliage spread,
And tall dark poplars rising out,
And blossomed orchards, white and red,
Cast, like a long low fence, about;
And in the midst the grey church-tower,
With one slight turret at its side,
Bringing to mind with silent power
Those thousand homes the elm-trees hide.
And then there came the thought of one
Who on his bed of sickness lay,
Whilst I beneath the setting sun
Was dreaming this sweet hour away.
I thought of hearts for him that beat,
Of aching eyes their watch that kept;
The sister’s and the mother’s seat—
And oh! I thought I should have wept.
And oh, my spirit melted then,
The weight fell off me that I bore,
And now I felt in truth again
The lovely things that stood before.
O blessed, blessed scene, to thee,
For that thy sweet and softening power,
I could have fallen upon my knee,
Thy stately elms, thy grey church-tower.
So then I took my homeward way,
My heart in sweet and holy frame,
With spirit, I may dare to say,
More good and soft than when I came.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Ode to Adversity
Daughter of Heav'n, relentless pow'r,
Thou tamer of the human breast,
Whose iron scourge, and tort'ring hour,
The bad affright, afflict the best!
Bound in thy adamantine chain,
The proud are taught to taste of pain,
And purple tyrants vainly groan
With pangs unfelt before, unpitied and alone.
When first thy sire to send on earth
Virtue, his darling child, design'd,
To thee he gave the heavn'ly birth,
And bade to form her infant mind.
Stern rugged nurse! thy rigid lore
With patience many a year she bore.
What sorrow was, thou bad'st her know;
And from her she learn'd to melt at others' wo.
Scar'd at thy frown terrific, fly
Self-pleasing folly's idle brood,
Wild laughter, noise, and thoughtless joy,
And leave us leisure to be good.
Light they disperse; and with them go
The summer-friend, the flatt'ring foe.
By vain prosperity receiv'd,
To her they vow their truth, and are again believ'd.
Wisdom, in sable garb array'd,
Immers'd in rapt'rous thought profound,
And melancholy, silent maid,
With leaden eye that loves the ground,
Still on thy solemn steps attend;
Warm charity, the gen'ral friend,
With justice to herself severe,
And pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear.
Oh, gently, on the suppliant's head,
Dread pow'r lay thy chast'ning hand!
Not in thy gorgon terrors clad,
Nor circled with the vengeful band,
(As by the impious thou art seen,)
With thund'ring voice, and threat'ning mien,
With screaming horror's fun'ral cry,
Despair, and fell disease, and ghastly poverty.
Thy form benign, propitious, wear,
Thy milder influence impart;
Thy philosophic train be there,
To soften, not to wound my heart.
The gen'rous spark extinct revive:
Teach me to love, and to forgive;
Exact my own defects to scan;
What others are to feel; and know myself a man.
Perpetuating A Cause
Perpetuating that one myth of old, with roots so deceptively bold,
Exalting man above God’s Grace, and putting man in God’s place.
With its roots going back to when, Satan began deceiving all men,
Raising the heart’s desires of man, well above their Creator’s plan.
Satan’s lie from way back then, is still deceiving the minds of men,
He fills men’s heart with such pride, so The Word of God is denied.
As he seduces the natural mind, causing men to be spiritually blind,
Creating no need for Christ at all, as Satan fuels man’s spiritual fall.
Satan spins a creative web of lies, making men think they are wise,
But only in their own eyes, as the things of God they soon despise.
These men become quite arrogant, ignoring all things God has sent,
Those things being God’s Holy Word, and the other warnings heard.
So then Satan creates alternatives, guiding how the unbeliever lives,
Counterfeit plans created by him, plans which are full of wicked sin.
And this sin hardens one’s heart, so from The Lord men truly depart,
To then be used by that Evil One, as opposition to God’s Own Son.
As Satan inspires many a cause, all to mislead those spiritually lost,
Saying that it’s good for man, diverting him from God’s saving Plan.
An empty cause of no eternal worth, deceiving men around the earth,
Perpetuating Satan’s Eternal Lie, that many won’t believe till they die.
Psalm 119 part 7
Imperfection of nature, and perfection of scripture.
ver. 96, paraphrased.
Let all the heathen writers join
To form one perfect book;
Great God! if once compared with thine,
How mean their writings look!
Not the most perfect rules they gave
Could show one sin forgiv'n,
Nor lead a step beyond the grave;
But thine conduct to heav'n.
I've seen an end to what we call
Perfection here below;
How short the powers of nature fall,
And can no further go!
Yet men would fain be just with God
By works their hands have wrought;
But thy commands, exceeding broad,
Extend to every thought.
In vain we boast perfection here,
While sin defiles our frame,
And sinks our virtues down so far,
They scarce deserve the name.
Our faith, and love, and every grace,
Fall far below thy word;
But perfect truth and righteousness
Dwell only with the Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Beginning of Wisdom
God has put in His Word the fear of God is the beginning of Wisdom,
This instruction in Psalms is meant for all Believers not just some.
It's not a fear of man, but a deep reverence for God in one's heart,
And once you have this Holy Fear inside you will sense Wisdom start.
Today Christians seem to be very vulnerable to the enemy's attacks,
For a real Godly Fear with His Wisdom is something The Church lacks.
In The Church we have convinced ourselves of so many foolish things,
All the while as Christians ignoring the fact we are now new beings.
A lot of these things are not of The Spirit, but of man's own mind,
And many lead us to embrace the very things we should leave behind.
After King David had firmly established Israel into their new land,
He had passed the Kingdom down to Solomon with a new task at hand.
Humbled by the task of leading all the people of God's New Kingdom,
Solomon knew he needed Divine Guidance and asked for Godly Wisdom.
And with God's Wisdom Israel became the greatest nation ever known,
However, this mighty nation fell when Solomon chose to use his own.
And as Solomon needed God's Wisdom to lead the people of his nation,
We too in The Church need God's Wisdom to lead people to Salvation.
And because we are a royal priesthood leading others to The Kingdom,
It's time to truly fear God so that He can fill us with His Wisdom.
(Copyright © 08/2002)
Sonnet: Nothing’s Reliable on Earth
The world is full of surprises and shocks;
The things we think will happen never could;
No house is safe though built by cement/rocks;
When gas gets empty, we return to wood.
The friend we thought was best becomes our foe!
An evil mind turns Good Samaritan;
Nothing happens as per schedule like woe!
All things are unpredictable like man.
The things on earth can dupe our eyes and ears;
Man’s knowledge is never enough at all;
Though wisdom comes to men who seek oe’r years;
Man’s sinfulness becomes a mighty wall.
Our senses aren’t very perfect at all;
Yet, we must never miss our Maker’s call.
poem by John Celes
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Psalm 119 part 9
Desire of knowledge; or, The teachings of the Spirit with the word.
ver. 64,68,18
Thy mercies fill the earth, O Lord;
How good thy works appear!
Open mine eyes to read thy word,
And see thy wonders there.
ver. 73,125
My heart was fashioned by thy hand;
My service is thy due:
O make thy servant understand
The duties he must do.
ver. 19
Since I'm a stranger here below,
Let not thy path be hid;
But mark the road my feet should go,
And be my constant guide
ver. 26
When I confessed my wand'ring ways,
Thou heard'st my soul complain;
Grant me the teachings of thy grace,
Or I shall stray again.
ver. 33,34
If God to me his statutes show,
And heav'nly truth impart,
His work for ever I'll pursue,
His law shall rule my heart.
ver. 50,71
This was my comfort when I bore
Variety of grief;
It made me learn thy word the more,
And fly to that relief.
ver. 51
[In vain the proud deride me now;
I'll ne'er forget thy law,
Nor let that blessed gospel go,
Whence all my hopes I draw.
ver. 27,171
When I have learned my Father's will,
I'll teach the world his ways;
My thankful lips, inspired with zeal,
Shall loud pronounce his praise.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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