The Treasure Of Abram
I.
IN the old Rabbinical stories,
So old they might well be true,—
The sacred tales of the Talmud,
That David and Solomon knew,—
There is one of the Father Abram,
The greatest of Heber's race,
The mustard-seed of Judea
That filled the holy place.
'Tis said that the fiery heaven
His eye was first to read,
Till planets were gods no longer,
But helps for the human need;
He taught his simple people
The scope of eternal law
That swayed at once the fleecy cloud
And the circling suns they saw.
But the rude Chaldean peasants
Uprose against the seer,
And drave him forth—else never came
This Talmud legend here.
With Sarah his wife, and his servants,
Whom he ruled with potent hand,
The Patriarch planted his vineyards
In the Canaanitish land;
With his wife—the sterile, but lovely,
The fame of whose beauty grew
Till there was no land in Asia
But tales of the treasure knew.
In his lore the sage lived—learning
High thought from the starlit skies;
Bat heedful, too, of the light at home,
And the danger of wistful eyes;
Till the famine fell on his corn-fields,
And sent him forth again,
To seek for a home in Egypt,—
The laud of the amorous men.
II.
Long and rich is the caravan that halts at Egypt's gate,
While duty full the stranger pays on lowing herd and freight.
Full keen the scrutiny of those who note the heavy dues;
From weanling foal to cumbrous wain, no chance of gain they lose.
But fair the search—no wealth concealed; while rich the gifts they take
From Abram's hand, till care has ceased, and formal quest they make.
They pass the droves and laden teams, the weighted slaves are past,
And Abram doubles still the gifts; one wain—his own—is last—
It goes unsearched! Wise Abram smiles, though dearly stemmed the quest;
But haps will come from causes slight,
And hidden things upspring to light:
A breeze flings wide the canvas fold, and deep within the wain, behold
A brass-bound, massive chest!
'Press on!' shouts Abram. 'Hold!' they cry; 'what treasure hide ye here?'
The word is stern—the answer brief: 'Treasure! 'tis household gear;
Plain linen cloth and flaxen thread.' The scribes deceived are wroth;
'Then weigh the chest—its price shall be the dues on linen cloth!'
The face of Abram seemed to grieve, though joy was in his breast,
As carefully his servants took and weighed the mighty chest.
But one hath watched the secret smile; he cries—'This stranger old
Hath used deceit: no cloth is here—this chest is filled with gold!'
''Nay, nay,' wise Abram says, and smiles, though now he hides dismay;
'But time is gold: let pass the chest—on gold the dues I pay!'
But he who read the subtle smile detects the secret fear:
'Detain the chest! nor cloth nor gold, but precious silk is here!'
Grave Father Abram stands like one who knoweth well the sword
When tyros baffle thrust and guard; slow comes the heedful word:
'I seek no lawless gain—behold! my trains are on their way,
Else would these bands my servants break, and show the simple goods I take,
That silk ye call; but, for time's sake, on silk the dues I pay!'
'He pays too much!' the watcher cries; 'this man is full of guile;
From cloth to gold and gold to silk, to save a paltry mile!
This graybeard pay full silken dues on cloth for slave-bred girls!
Some prize is here—he shall not pass until he pay for pearls!'
Stern Abram turned a lurid eye, as he the man would slay;
An instant, rose the self-command; but thin the lip and quick the hand,
As one who makes a last demand: 'On pearls the dues! pay!'
'He cannot pass!' the watcher screamed, as to the chest he clung;
'He shall not pass! Some priceless thing he hideth here.
Quick—workmen bring!
I seize this treasure for the King!'
Old Abram stood aghast; it seemed the knell of doom had rung.
III.
Red-eyed with greed and wonder,
The crowd excited stand;
The blows are rained like thunder
On brazen bolt and band;
They burst the massive hinges,
They raise the pondrous lid,
And lo! the peerless treasure
That Father Abram hid:
In pearls and silk and jewels rare,
Fit for a Pharaoh's strife;
In flashing eyes and golden hair—
Sat Abram's lovely wife!
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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The Parable of the Old Man and the Young
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and strops,
And builded parapets and trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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The Parable of the Young Man and the Old
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned, both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake, and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets the trenches there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! an angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so, but slew his son,
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
poem by Wilfred Owen
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Hymn 129
Submission and deliverance; or, Abraham offering up his son.
Gen. 22:6, etc.
Saints, at your heav'nly Father's word
Give up your comforts to the Lord;
He shall restore what you resign,
Or grant you blessings more divine.
So Abram with obedient hand
Led forth his son at God's command;
The wood, the fire, the knife, he took,
His arm prepared the dreadful stroke.
"Abram, forbear!" the angel cried,
Thy faith is known, thy love is tried
Thy son shall live, and in thy seed
Shall the whole earth be blest indeed."
Just in the last distressing hour
Tie Lord displays deliv'ring power;
The mount of dauger is the place
Where we shall see surprising grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Seeing Beyond the Fog
I can see what you've written
On the wall beyond the fog
Separating me from the edifice
Of fame that eluded me for too long
I live waiting on happier souls
Whose fortunes are so much more
Than my stacks of assets all whole
While I slave away at my next list of chores
As the writings slowly pass me by
I try to make the words dance to music I create
But my passing glow is still just a lie
And my sand is falling. my days are growing late
My failure to break through the fog
And erase the curses written on the wall
Will eat away at me before long
Until I have no more will to fight at all
The fog surrounds me now
I can see what's on the other side
But I cannot hope to break through anyhow
So I'll try and take my ending in good stride.
by Abram Friedland
a comment on the life of Robert Schumann (1810 - 1856) .
poem by Abram Friedland
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Okoe
A deep sleep fell upon man and,
There came a vision of a poem like this to toch you;
A deep sleep fell upon Abram and,
The law was given to him;
A deep sleep fell upon Adam and,
Out of him came Eve;
But Abram heeded the voice of Sarai.
Okoe, Hagar was an Egyptian maidservant;
But you are mine forever!
So come straight into my arms of love and,
Let us crown the day with the sweet muse of love.
I am in love with you and i will be there for you,
So let this sleep also fall upon us to swing the muse;
For in your bed i will lay always.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Abram Morrison
'Midst the men and things which will
Haunt an old man's memory still,
Drollest, quaintest of them all,
With a boy's laugh I recall
Good old Abram Morrison.
When the Grist and Rolling Mill
Ground and rumbled by Po Hill,
And the old red school-house stood
Midway in the Powow's flood,
Here dwelt Abram Morrison.
From the Beach to far beyond
Bear-Hill, Lion's Mouth and Pond,
Marvellous to our tough old stock,
Chips o' the Anglo-Saxon block,
Seemed the Celtic Morrison.
Mudknock, Balmawhistle, all
Only knew the Yankee drawl,
Never brogue was heard till when,
Foremost of his countrymen,
Hither came Friend Morrison;
Yankee born, of alien blood,
Kin of his had well withstood
Pope and King with pike and ball
Under Derry's leaguered wall,
As became the Morrisons.
Wandering down from Nutfield woods
With his household and his goods,
Never was it clearly told
How within our quiet fold
Came to be a Morrison.
Once a soldier, blame him not
That the Quaker he forgot,
When, to think of battles won,
And the red-coats on the run,
Laughed aloud Friend Morrison.
From gray Lewis over sea
Bore his sires their family tree,
On the rugged boughs of it
Grafting Irish mirth and wit,
And the brogue of Morrison.
Half a genius, quick to plan,
Blundering like an Irishman,
But with canny shrewdness lent
By his far-off Scotch descent,
Such was Abram Morrison.
Back and forth to daily meals,
Rode his cherished pig on wheels,
And to all who came to see
'Aisier for the pig an' me,
Sure it is,' said Morrison.
Simple-hearted, boy o'er-grown,
With a humor quite his own,
Of our sober-stepping ways,
Speech and look and cautious phrase,
Slow to learn was Morrison.
Much we loved his stories told
Of a country strange and old,
Where the fairies danced till dawn,
And the goblin Leprecaun
Looked, we thought, like Morrison.
Or wild tales of feud and fight,
Witch and troll and second sight
Whispered still where Stornoway
Looks across its stormy bay,
Once the home of Morrisons.
First was he to sing the praise
Of the Powow's winding ways;
And our straggling village took
City grandeur to the look
Of its poet Morrison.
All his words have perished. Shame
On the saddle-bags of Fame,
That they bring not to our time
One poor couplet of the rhyme
Made by Abram Morrison!
When, on calm and fair First Days,
Rattled down our one-horse chaise,
Through the blossomed apple-boughs
To the old, brown meeting-house,
There was Abram Morrison.
Underneath his hat's broad brim
Peered the queer old face of him;
And with Irish jauntiness
Swung the coat-tails of the dress
Worn by Abram Morrison.
Still, in memory, on his feet,
Leaning o'er the elders' seat,
Mingling with a solemn drone,
Celtic accents all his own,
Rises Abram Morrison.
'Don't,' he's pleading, 'don't ye go,
Dear young friends, to sight and show,
Don't run after elephants,
Learned pigs and presidents
And the likes!' said Morrison.
On his well-worn theme intent,
Simple, child-like, innocent,
Heaven forgive the half-checked smile
Of our careless boyhood, while
Listening to Friend Morrison!
We have learned in later days
Truth may speak in simplest phrase;
That the man is not the less
For quaint ways and home-spun dress,
Thanks to Abram Morrison!
Not to pander nor to please
Come the needed homilies,
With no lofty argument
Is the fitting message sent,
Through such lips as Morrison's.
Dead and gone! But while its track
Powow keeps to Merrimac,
While Po Hill is still on guard,
Looking land and ocean ward,
They shall tell of Morrison!
After half a century's lapse,
We are wiser now, perhaps,
But we miss our streets amid
Something which the past has hid,
Lost with Abram Morrison.
Gone forever with the queer
Characters of that old year
Now the many are as one;
Broken is the mould that run
Men like Abram Morrison.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Harry
Yahweh appeared to Abram and said:
'To your descendants i will give this land';
And today from the source of Isaac,
The descendants of Abram are on the land!
Oh Harry, i am in great distress and i need you around me;
So come and warm me with your love tonight.
Harry my love, you are all that i need.
Abner was buried in Hebron and,
I do have you as my lover;
So come and warm me with your love tonight.
Oh Harry, my distress is like shields and spears;
But do bury me in the tomb i dug for myself,
For the dignitaries at Abel Mitzraim are waiting for you.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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The Lord's Scepter Shall Never Depart
God chose the man Abram to start his plan of reconciliation,
He believed and his descendents would be a mighty little nation.
When God first spoke to Abram, he told him to leave his relations,
Later changing his name to Abraham, as the father of many nations.
For through his seed God would bless all the nations of the earth,
Later Isaiah prophesied this seed would come through a virgin birth.
From the tribe of Judah the Lord's Scepter shall never depart,
True Words spoken by Isaac’s son Jacob, right from his heart.
This was Jacob's blessing to his son Judah at his departure,
Spoke for the Father of All Nations, Judah couldn't be any surer.
God began to fulfill His promise with one of Judah's very own,
For through King David He would establish an everlasting throne.
God used his son Solomon to build a temple in Jerusalem for The Lord.
Through Nathan, God told David that his Kingdom would forever endure.
Although the Kingdom grew great under Solomon, his heart turned away,
So God tore away the Kingdom, but for David's sake Judah He let stay.
It will be The Lion of Judah, who fulfills the promise of The Lord,
It is under Christ, The Son of David, that the land will be restored.
However, many countries will be left out of God's plan of Salvation,
For they have harbored hatred and despised this tiny little nation.
(Copyright © 04/2002)
The Rich Man And Lazarus
A Worldling spent each day
In luxury and state;
While a believer lay,
A beggar at his gate:
Think not the Lord's appointments strange,
Death made a great and lasting change.
Death brought the saint release
From want, disease, and scorn;
And to the land of peace,
His soul, by angels borne,
In Abraham's bosom safely placed,
Enjoys an everlasting feast.
The rich man also died,
And in a moment fell
From all his pomp and pride
Into the flames of hell:
The beggar's bliss from far beheld,
His soul with double anguish filled.
O Abram send, he cries,
But his request was vain
The beggar from the skies
To mitigate my pain!
One drop of water I entreat,
To soothe my tongue's tormenting heat.
Let all who worldly pelf,
And worldly spirits have,
Observe, each for himself,
The answer Abram gave:
Remember, thou wast filled with good,
While the poor beggar pined for food.
Neglected at thy door
With tears he begged his bread;
But now, he weeps no more,
His griefs and pains are fled:
His joys eternally will flow,
While thine expire in endless woe.
Lord, make us truly wise,
To choose thy peoples' lot;
And earthly joys despise,
Which soon will be forgot:
The greatest evil we can fear,
Is to possess our portion here!
poem by John Newton
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Hymn 60
The Virgin Mary's song.
Luke 1:46ff.
Our souls shall magnify the Lord,
In God the Savior we rejoice:
While we repeat the Virgin's song,
May the same Spirit tune our voice!
[The Highest saw her low estate,
And mighty things his hand hath done:
His overshadowing power and grace
Makes her the mother of his Son.
Let ev'ry nation call her blest,
And endless years prolong her fame;
But God alone must be ador'd:
Holy and reverend is his name.]
To those that fear and trust the Lord,
His mercy stands for ever sure:
From age to age his promise lives,
And the performance is secure.
He spake to Abram and his seed,
In thee shall all the earth be blessed;"
The memory of that ancient word
Lay long in his eternal breast.
But now no more shall Isr'el wait,
No more the Gentiles lie forlorn:
Lo, the desire of nations comes;
Behold, the promised seed is born!
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Golden Wedding Of Sterling And Sarah Lanier, September 27, 1868.
By the Eldest Grandson.
A rainbow span of fifty years,
Painted upon a cloud of tears,
In blue for hopes and red for fears,
Finds end in a golden hour to-day.
Ah, YOU to our childhood the legend told,
'At the end of the rainbow lies the gold,'
And now in our thrilling hearts we hold
The gold that never will pass away.
Gold crushed from the quartz of a crystal life,
Gold hammered with blows of human strife,
Gold burnt in the love of man and wife,
Till it is pure as the very flame:
Gold that the miser will not have,
Gold that is good beyond the grave,
Gold that the patient and the brave
Amass, neglecting praise and blame.
O golden hour that caps the time
Since, heart to heart like rhyme to rhyme,
You stood and listened to the chime
Of inner bells by spirits rung,
That tinkled many a secret sweet
Concerning how two souls should meet,
And whispered of Time's flying feet
With a most piquant silver tongue.
O golden day, -- a golden crown
For the kingly heads that bowed not down
To win a smile or 'scape a frown,
Except the smile and frown of Heaven!
Dear heads, still dark with raven hair;
Dear hearts, still white in spite of care;
Dear eyes, still black and bright and fair
As any eyes to mortals given!
Old parents of a restless race,
You miss full many a bonny face
That would have smiled a filial grace
Around your Golden Wedding wine.
But God is good and God is great.
His will be done, if soon or late.
Your dead stand happy in yon Gate
And call you blessed while they shine.
So, drop the tear and dry the eyes.
Your rainbow glitters in the skies.
Here's golden wine: young, old, arise:
With cups as full as our souls, we say:
'Two Hearts, that wrought with smiles through tears
This rainbow span of fifty years,
Behold how true, true love appears
True gold for your Golden Wedding day!'
poem by Sidney Lanier
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Purple Silk
Purple silk caresses my skin like butter,
It is like the richest, darkest chocolate,
Wicked, yet magical, touches that soothe,
My skin soft to the touch,
As purple silk lets you win,
For you are like the sweetest candy to me,
You are like sugar: so sweet,
And every night, I wait for your return,
Myself having worked my fingers to the bone,
But you are my only one,
You matter more to me than the summer sun,
Because it doesn't matter to me if it is winter:
All that matters is that you are here,
Keeping me in your heart and me keeping you near,
I just know we were born equal,
For this is our spirit and our destiny,
A magical, flower filled path that we are walking along,
For together we are one: we are strong,
And we brave those storms,
That threaten to take us from the warm,
And leave us alone and destitiute,
But we are together and together we hold on,
Purple silk covering our kingsize bed,
As we renew our vows with a kiss,
And treasure this true love for always,
Our love as rich as pure gold.
Purple silk carresses my skin,
Like the richest, most luxurious cream,
And I feel the summer night breeze,
Against my beautifully, made-up face,
That smiles with real happiness,
For I have a new lover,
That I wear beautiful purple silk for,
And I lie there, naked on the bedroom floor,
The clock striking midnight,
The party not over for us,
For I have found true love,
Where kisses are so sweet,
And touches that leave me fizzy,
Because I am drunk on his love and am dizzy,
And I care about the world I live in,
And the opinions of people who live here,
In this place, this life, this time,
And he is magical, truly mine,
Like the moon and the stars of the night sky,
I treasure him like gold from a treasure chest,
And for him I do my best,
To build us a happy home,
Where we live in harmony,
And share a closeness so rare,
Like the most beautiful red ruby,
And I wear his gold wedding ring,
His beauty so great that lovers sing,
Because he lives deep inside my heart,
Purple silk for magical nights,
The room glowing from the light of the moon,
For we belong together; our bodies joining together,
And he stars in my realm of dreams,
And he is the hero in this movie scene,
So close to my heart, I cannot desert him,
And together we tackle our lives,
And deal with harsh, grey days,
Waiting for darkness to fall,
So we can be together again, for we fit,
Like the lace and silk of any garment,
That lovers share,
My skin electric with excited sweat,
And lovely shivers go through my bones,
For tonight I carress your skin with purple silk,
Our clothes discarded on the bedroom floor,
The only light being cast like magic from the moon.
poem by Paula Glynn
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Lost Treasure Chest
Magical treasure chest made of gold,
has in it many stories to be told.
On one uneventful day,
Golden treasure chest was taken away.
I had it packed in back room with shoes,
that’s when someone decided to lose,
my treasure chest right on site,
hide it from me with all their mite.
Luckily I went to store
found 20 treasure chests more galore.
Painted one up really quick,
I had a art show party within a week.
Watercolor paintings of Melodie,
hang on wall for children to see.
see along with Krendoll island set,
They would play on it and not forget
Forget the magic of Krendoll island I did make,
with birthday props like birthday cake.
Art show birthday party at Mexican Bizarre,
I set up the birthday party with a star.
Children showed up to find presents and unfreeze,
dragons that would begin to sneeze.
Once they had the heat device,
which was magical and would suffice,
To melt the spell on them,
Making them turn into birthday child’s friend.
Birthday child friends come alive,
They would have to find the birthday child.
Once Ice Spell broken, Birthday child would be all smiles.
Birthday child would receive a birthday crown
and beautiful birthstone gown.
From magical golden treasure chest,
the one that would become magical and the best.
Making birthday child’s wishes be recorded inside,
the magical treasure chest’s Krendoll Chronicles it would reside.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 31,2011
www.purplepoems.com www.suzaechevalier.com
poem by Christina Sunrise
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Lost Treasure Chest
Magical treasure chest made of gold,
has in it many stories to be told.
On one uneventful day,
Golden treasure chest was taken away.
I had it packed in back room with shoes,
that's when someone decided to lose,
my treasure chest right on site,
hide it from me with all their mite.
Luckily I went to store
found 20 treasure chests more galore.
Painted one up really quick,
I had a art show party within a week.
Watercolor paintings of Melodie,
hang on wall for children to see.
see along with Krendoll island set,
They would play on it and not forget
Forget the magic of Krendoll island I did make,
with birthday props like birthday cake.
Art show birthday party at Mexican Bizarre,
I set up the birthday party with a star.
Children showed up to find presents and unfreeze,
dragons that would begin to sneeze.
Once they had the heat device,
which was magical and would suffice,
To melt the spell on them,
Making them turn into birthday child's friend.
Birthday child friends come alive,
They would have to find the birthday child.
Once Ice Spell broken, Birthday child would be all smiles.
Birthday child would receive a birthday crown
and beautiful birthstone gown.
From magical golden treasure chest,
the one that would become magical and the best.
Making birthday child's wishes be recorded inside,
the magical treasure chest's Krendoll Chronicles it would reside.
Written by Suzae Chevalier on August 31,2011
www.suzae.com www.suechevalier.com www.suzaria.com
poem by Suzae Chevalier
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The Star's Song
Flower! Flower, why repine?
God knows each creature's place;
He hides within me when I shine,
And your leaves hide His face.
And you are near as I to Him,
And you reveal as much
Of that eternal soundless hymn
Man's words may never touch.
God sings to man through all my rays
That wreathe the brow of night,
And walks with me thro' all my ways --
The everlasting light.
Flower! Flower, why repine?
He chose on lowly earth,
And not in heaven where I shine,
His Bethlehem and birth.
Flower! Flower, I see Him pass
Each hour of night and day,
Down to an altar and a Mass
Go thou! and fade away.
Fade away upon His shrine!
Thy light is brighter far
Than all the light wherewith I shine
In heaven, as a star.
poem by Abram Joseph Ryan
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Dedication Poem
Outcast from her home in Syria
In the lonely, dreary wild;
Heavy hearted, sorrow stricken,
Sat a mother and her child.
There was not a voice to cheer her
Not a soul to share her fate;
She was weary, he was fainting,
And life seemed so desolate.
Far away in sunny Egypt
Was lone Hagar's native land;
Where the Nile in kingly bounty
Scatters bread with gracious hand.
In the tents of princely Abram
She for years had found a home;
Till the stern decree of Sarah
Sent her forth the wild to roam.
Hour by hour she journeyed onward
From the shelter of their tent,
Till her footsteps slowly faltered
And the water all was spent;
Then she veiled her face in sorrow,
Feared her child would die of thirst
Till her eyes with tears so holden
Saw a sparkling fountain burst.
Oh! how happy was that mother,
What a soothing of her pain;
When she saw her child reviving,
Life rejoicing through each vein
Does not life repeat this story,
Tell it over day by day ?
Of the fountains of refreshment
Ever springing by our way.
Here is one by which we gather,
On this bright and happy day,
Just to bask beside a fountain
Making gladder life's highway.
Bringing unto hearts now aged
Who have borne life's burdens long,
Such a gift of love and mercy
As deserves our sweetest song.
Such a gift that even heaven
May rejoice with us below,
If the pure and holy angels
Join us in our joy and woe.
May the memory of the giver
In this home where age may rest,
Float like fragrance through the ages,
Ever blessing, ever blest. .
When the gates of pearl are opened
May we there this friend behold,
Drink with him from living fountains,
Walk with him the streets of gold.
When life's shattered cords of music
Shall again be sweetly sung;
Then our hearts with life immortal,
Shall be young, forever young.
poem by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
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The Mystery of Israel
This is the mystery of Israel, and how they fit into God’s will.
God met with this man Abram, when this man had not a son.
He told him to leave his kin, and go to a place He’d show him.
His name changed to Abraham, for he’d be given many lands.
God told him he’d have a son, when he and Sarah had no one.
Then Abraham simply gasped, while his wife Sarah laughed.
So Sarah decided to use Hagar, although God played no part.
Hagar and Abraham had a son, but he wasn’t the chosen one.
Abraham’s first son was Ishmael, but he was of a human deal.
For Abraham’s other son Isaac, was the one God would pick.
And it was Isaac’s son Jacob, who was the one that God loved.
Jacob wrestled with God’s will, and his named became Israel.
And this is the name of the land, that God promised Abraham.
God said He’d bless each nation, through Abraham’s situation.
Then the Jews entered the land, under Joshua and God’s Hand.
But they would anger The Lord, when His decrees they ignored.
God for a time turned from them, with His Covenant for all men.
Israel’s been hardened for awhile, as God includes the Gentile.
The Jew and Gentile are now one, under the Blood of God’s Son.
And Israel will receive her land, under the rule of The Son of Man.
For A Poet
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold;
Where long will cling the lips of the moth,
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth;
I hide no hate; I am not even wroth
Who found the earth's breath so keen and cold;
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold.
poem by Countee Cullen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn 120
Faith of things unseen.
Heb. 11
Faith is the brightest evidence
Of things beyond our sight,
Breaks through the clouds of flesh and sense,
And dwells in heav'nly light.
It sets times past in present view,
Brings distant prospects home,
Of things a thousand years ago,
Or thousand years to come.
By faith we know the worlds were made
By God's almighty word;
Abram, to unknown countries led,
By faith obeyed the Lord.
He sought a city fair and high,
Built by th' eternal hands,
And faith assures us, though we die,
That heav'nly building stands.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Pride
Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton, Dominic West, Ben Schnetzer, Abram Rooney, Jim McManus, George MacKay, Monica Dolan, Andrew Scott
by Stephen Beresford from Pride (2014)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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