Sonnet 09
IX
Lady that in the prime of earliest youth,
Wisely hath shun'd the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the Hill of heav'nly Truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth,
Chosen thou hast, and they that overween,
And at thy growing vertues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fixt and zealously attends
To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light,
And Hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure
Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastfull friends
Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,
Hast gain'd thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.
Note: 5 with Ruth] the Ruth 1645.
poem by John Milton
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To a Virtuous Young Lady
Lady! that in the prime of earliest youth
Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green,
And with those few art eminently seen,
That labour up the Hill of Heavenly Truth,
The better part with Mary and with Ruth
Chosen thou hast, and they that overween,
And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen,
No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth.
Thy care is fixed, and zealously attends
To fill thy odorous Lamp with deeds of light.
And Hope that reaps not shame; therefore be sure,
Thou, when the Bridegroom with his feastful friends
Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night,
Hast gained thy entrance, Virgin wise and pure.
poem by John Milton
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Sonnet XVII: Stay, Speedy Time
To Time
Stay, speedy Time, behold, before thou pass,
From age to age what thou hast sought to see,
One in whom all the excellencies be,
In whom Heav'n looks itself as in a glass.
Time, look thyself in this tralucent glass,
And thy youth past in this pure mirror see,
As the world's beauty in his infancy,
What is was then, and thou before it was.
Pass on, and to posterity tell this,
Yet see thou tell but truly what hath been;
Say to our nephews that thou once hast seen
In perfect human shape all heav'nly bliss,
And bid them mourn, nay more, despair with thee,
That she is gone, her like again to see.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Great Women - Young and Old
The lights of Bethlehem still burn,
For Ruth’s mother-in-law to return.
Since her unfettered faith, so strong,
Convinced Ruth, with her, to come along.
Facing bravely the consequences of God’s plan,
Ruth, with Naomi, went to the Promised Land.
To live on in Bethlehem was their decision,
Both seeking to receive God’s provision.
God doesn’t stop being God in adversity
Is what Naomi taught Ruth to believe.
So there in Bethlehem, Ruth sought for a man
To help her with the consequences of God’s plan.
And Boaz of Bethlehem, Naomi’s rich kinsman,
Found Ruth to be both charming and winsome.
So he shared with Ruth the bounty of his field,
When he learned her faith, though foreign, was real.
Thus they became one with the grace of God’s will
And with a prophecy of God their duty to fulfill.
Ruth’s faith in Naomi’s God found reinforcement
While lovelorn Naomi was freed of her resentment.
God’s will it was to give Ruth and Boaz a boy,
And for Naomi to restore her spiritual joy.
poem by Albert Price
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Not Love
I HAVE not yet I could have loved thee, sweet;
Nor know I wherefore, thou being all thou art,
The engrafted thought in me throve incomplete,
And grew to summer strength in every part
Of root and leaf, but hath not borne the flower.
Love hath refrained his fullness from my heart.
I know no better beauty, none with power
To hold mine eyes through change and change as thine,
Like southern skies that alter with each hour,
And yet are changeless, and their calm divine
From light to light hath motionlessly passed,
With only different loveliness for sign.
I know no fairer nature, nor where, cast
On the clear mirror of thine own young truth,
The imaged things of Heaven lie plainer glassed;
Nor where more fit alike show tender ruth,
And anger for the right, and hopes aglow,
And joy and sighs of April-hearted youth.
But some day I, so wont to praise thee so
With unabashed warm words for all to hear,
Shall scarcely name another, speaking low.
Some day, methinks, and who can tell how near?
I may, to thee unchanged, be praising thee
With one not worthier but a world more dear;
With one I know not yet, who shall, maybe,
Be not so fair, be not in aught thy peer;
Who shall be all that thou art not to me.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part III)
Boaz Will Redeem Ruth:
Then Naomi told Ruth one day,
‘Should I not seek security
For you, my daughter, to be well?
Our kinsman Boaz winnows grain
With maids at threshing floor, tonight! ’
‘You therefore wash yourself, anoint
And wear your best clothes and be there;
Don’t tell him who you are until,
He finishes eating, drinking;
You note the place where he lies down;
Go uncover his feet and lie;
Then, he will tell you what to do.’
Ruth promised to obey her words;
She reached the threshing floor and did
All that her mother-in-law said;
When Boaz had his food and fill,
With merry heart, he lay down still;
Ruth secretly went near the man
His feet uncovered, she lay down.
In middle of the night, the man
Got startled, seeing a lady!
She asked her whoever she was.
“I’m Ruth your maid and relative.”
Then Boaz said, ‘Blessed of Lord,
You’ve been kind to not go after
Young men, whether the poor or rich!
Do not fear, my daughter, now,
You’re a woman of excellence;
I’ll do for you whatev’r you ask.
‘There is a closer relative;
Remain this night until the dawn;
If he redeems you, well and good;
If he does not, I surely will;
He told her to lie down till morn.’
He got up early and told them,
‘Let none know that the woman came;
He asked her cloak and measured six
Measures of barley onto it.
Ruth went into the city then;
And told Naomi everything;
She showed the barley that he gave;
‘My daughter, wait’ said Naomi,
The man won’t rest till he settles! ’
Let’s wait and watch how things turn up.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2007
poem by John Celes
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Sweet empty sky of June without a stain,
O Lord, the hope of Israel, all they that forsake
Thee shall be ashamed ; and they that depart from
Thee, shall be written in the earth, because they have
forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living waters.
Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed ; save me,
and I shall be saved, for Thou art my health, and my
great deliverer.
I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to
the gates of the grave ; I have deprived myself of the
residue of my years.
I said, I shall not see the Lord, even the Lord in the
land of the living : I shall behold man no more with
the inhabitants of the world.
O Lord ! by Thee doth man live, and from Thee is
the life of my spirit : therefore wilt Thou recover me,
and make me to live.
Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the
pit of corruption ; for Thou hast cast all my sins
behind Thy back.
For Thy name's sake hast Thou put off thine anger ;
for Thy praise hast Thou refrained from me, that I
should not be cut off.
For the grave cannot praise Thee, death cannot
celebrate Thee : they that go down into the pit, cannot
hope for Thy truth.
The living, the living, he shall praise Thee, as I do
this day : the father to the children shall make known
Thy truth.
O Lord ! Thou hast been merciful, Thou hast
brought back my life from corruption : Thou hast
redeemed me from my sin.
They that follow after lying vanities, forsake their
own mercy.
Therefore shall Thy songs be with me, and my
prayer unto the God of my life.
I will go unto the altar of my God, unto God, the
joy of my youth ; and in Thy fear will I worship
towards Thy holy temple.
I will sacrifice unto Thee with the voice of thanks-
giving ; I will pay that which I have vowed ; sal-
vation is of the Lord.
poem by Henry Vaughan
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part Ib)
Her daughters-in-law wept aloud;
Orpah kissed her mother-in-law
And left towards her mother’s house;
Ruth, howev’r clung to Naomi!
Although Naomi advised her,
Ruth refused to leave, like Orpah;
Ruth told her not to compel her;
She loved to follow Naomi;
She’d stay wherever, she would stay;
Her God and people would be hers!
She was ready to die with her,
And be buried, where she would be;
She did not care if worse things came;
She wouldn’t desert her, until death!
When Naomi saw Ruth was firm,
She didn’t dissuade her thereafter!
They both entered Bethlehem town;
Seeing them, the city got stirred;
They asked if she was Noami.
“Call me Mara, Naomi wept!
The Lord has been bitter to me.”
“I went out full but come empty.
The Lord has afflicted me now.”
Thus, Naomi with Ruth returned
From Moab to Bethlehem town,
When barley harvest had begun!
poem by John Celes
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Don't compare me to Babe Ruth. God gave me the opportunity and the ability to be here at the right time, at the right moment, just like he gave Babe Ruth when he was playing. I just hope I can keep doing what I've been doing - keep taking care of business.
quote by Sammy Sosa
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hast Thou Forgotten Me?
HAST thou forgotten me? the days are dark—
Light ebbs from heaven, and songless soars the lark—
Vexed like my heart, loud moans the unquiet sea—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? O dead delight
Whose dreams and memories torture me to-night—
O love—my life! O sweet—so fair to see—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Lo, if one should say—
Noontide were night, or night were flaming day—
Grief blinds mine eyes, I know not which it be!
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Ah, if Death should come,
Close my sad eyes, and charm my song-bird dumb—
Tired of strange woes—my fate were hailed with glee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten me? What joy have I?
A dim blown bird beneath an alien sky,—
O that on mighty pinions I could flee—
Hast thou forgotten me?
Hast thou forgotten? Yea, Love’s horoscope
Is blurred with tears and suffering beyond Hope—
Ah, like dead leaves forsaken of the tree,
Thou hast forgotten me.
poem by Philip Joseph Holdsworth
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My God, I Thank Thee who Hast Made
My God, I thank Thee who hast made
The earth so bright;
So full of splendour and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right!
I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made
Joy to abound;
So many gentle thoughts and deeds
Circling us round,
That in the darkest spot of earth
Some love is found.
I thank Thee more that all our joy
Is touched with pain;
That shadows fall on brightest hours;
So that earth's bliss may be our guide,
And not our chain.
For Thou, who knowest, Lord, how soon
Our weak heart clings,
Hath given us joys, tender and true,
Yet all with wings;
So that we see, gleaming on high,
Diviner things.
I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept
The best in store:
We have enough, yet not too much
To long for more;
A yearning for a deeper peace,
Not known before.
poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
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And to play as long as I did and to have a family you have to be very blessed and I was with my wife Ruth. Ruth, I appreciate the job you did, and my three fine children, Reid, Reese, and Wendy.
quote by Nolan Ryan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet LXXXIV: Farewell to the Glen
Sweet stream-fed glen, why say “farewell” to thee
Who far'st so well and find'st for ever smooth
The brow of Time where man may read no ruth?
Nay, do thou rather say “farewell” to me,
Who now fare forth in bitterer fantasy
Than erst was mine where other shade might soothe
By other streams, what while in fragrant youth
The bliss of being sad made melancholy.
And yet, farewell! For better shalt thou fare
When children bathe sweet faces in thy flow
And happy lovers blend sweet shadows there
In hours to come, than when an hour ago
Thine echoes had but one man's sighs to bear
And thy trees whispered what he feared to know.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Sonnet LII: What? Dost Thou Mean
What? Dost thou mean to cheat me of my heart?
To take all mine and give me none again?
Or have thine eyes such magic or that art
That what they get they ever do retain?
Play not the tyrant, but take some remorse;
Rebate thy spleen, if but for pity's sake;
Or, cruel, if thou canst not, let us 'scourse,
And, for one piece of thine, my whole heart take.
But what of pity do I speak to thee,
Whose breast is proof against complaint or prayer?
Or can I think what my reward shall be
From that proud beauty, which was my betrayer?
What talk I of a heart, when thou hast none?
Or, if thou hast, it is a flinty one.
poem by Michael Drayton
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Sonnet to William Wilberforce, Esq.
Thy country, Wilberforce, with just disdain,
Hears thee, by cruel men and impious, call'd
Fanatic, for thy zeal to loose th' enthrall'd
From exile, public sale, and slav'ry's chain.
Friend of the poor, the wrong'd, the fetter-gall'd,
Fear not lest labour such as thine be vain!
Thou hast achiev'd a part; hast gain'd the ear
Of Britain's senate to thy glorious cause;
Hope smiles, joy springs, and tho' cold caution pause
And weave delay, the better hour is near,
That shall remunerate thy toils severe
By peace for Afric, fenc'd with British laws.
Enjoy what thou hast won, esteem and love
From all the just on earth, and all the blest above!
poem by William Cowper
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Delia XXXIII: When men shall find thy flower, thy glory, pa
XXXIII
When men shall find thy flower, thy glory, pass,
And thou with careful brow sitting alone
Received hast this message from thy glass,
That tells thee truth and says that all is gone:
Fresh shalt thou see in me the wounds thou madest,
Though spent thy flame, in me the heat remaining;
I that have lov'd thee thus before thou fadest,
My faith shall wax when thou art in thy waning.
The world shall find this miracle in me,
That fire can burn when all the matter's spent;
Then what my faith hath been thyself shall see,
And that thou wast unkind thou mayst repent.
Thou mayst repent that thou hast scorn'd my tears,
When winter snows upon thy golden hairs.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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Sonnet XLI: When Men Shall Find
When men shall find thy flower, thy glory pass,
And thou with carefull brow sitting alone,
Received hast this message from thy glass,
That tells thee truth, and says that all is gone,
Fresh shalt thou see in me the wounds thou madest;
Though spent thy flame, in me the heat remaining.
I that have lov'd thee thus before thou fadest,
My faith shall wax, when thou art in thy waning.
The world shall find this miracle in me,
That fire can burn, when all the matter's spent;
Then what my faith hath been thy self shalt see,
And that thou wast unkind thou mayst repent.
Thou mayst repent, that thou hast scorn'd my tears,
When Winter snows upon thy golden hairs.
poem by Samuel Daniel
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A Hymn to God the Father
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which is my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive that sin through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When though hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive that sin by which I have won
Others to sin? and made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
Swear by thy self, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now and heretofore;
And, having done that, thou hast done,
I fear no more.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Duke Vincento: Be absolute for death; either death or life
Shall thereby be the sweeter. Reason thus with life:
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
That none but fools would keep: a breath thou art,
Servile to all the skyey influences,
That dost this habitation, where thou keep‘st,
Hourly afflict: merely, thou art death‘s fool;
For him thou labour‘st by thy flight to shun
And yet runn‘st toward him still. Thou art not noble;
For all the accommodations that thou bear‘st
Are nursed by baseness. Thou‘rt by no means valiant;
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
Of a poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep,
And that thou oft provokest; yet grossly fear‘st
Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not thyself;
For thou exist‘st on many a thousand grains
That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not;
For what thou hast not, still thou strivest to get,
And what thou hast, forget‘st. Thou art not certain;
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
After the moon. If thou art rich, thou‘rt poor;
For, like an ass whose back with ingots bows,
Thou bear‘s thy heavy riches but a journey,
And death unloads thee. Friend hast thou none;
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins,
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor youth nor age,
But, as it were, an after-dinner‘s sleep,
Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth
Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor beauty,
To make thy riches pleasant. What‘s yet in this
That bears the name of life? Yet in this life
Lie hid moe thousand deaths: yet death we fear,
That makes these odds all even.
line from Measure for Measure by William Shakespeare
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Shade Of Truth
Each day begins with the shade
With the shade that provides aid
Aid like wonders, humor and beauty
That reminds us all of our duties
It also tells us the greatness of truth
Truth like life's sorrows and ruth
Sorrows and ruth that are the part
Of our daily life inside the heart
So try to totally enjoy it
Whatever life is showing bit by bit
And try to be happy in life
Because that's the best way to survive.
poem by Seema Chowdhury
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Bible Stories: Ruth (Part V)
The grief of bereavement is great;
Three women lose their husbands fast;
But one has lost husband and sons!
Oh, what a tragedy for all!
The selfless mother-in-law feels
The daughters-in-law need not share
The cup of woes that life gave her,
But tells them to make their future.
One daughter-in-law goes away;
Ruth’s love for Naomi but stays;
She will not leave her any day;
But follows her in her pathways!
Naomi is more experienced;
Ruth puts her future in her hands;
She has to leave for Bethlehem,
Where she knows not the people there.
Her trust in Naomi is great;
She does whatever she tells her;
Naomi does right things for her
And guides Ruth to new destiny!
What unflinching love both do share!
And God is with them in travail;
They do not curse or lament much;
Their faith in God just cannot fail.
God works a miracle for Ruth;
Though Moabite, she is so good;
A rich man Boaz marries her
In accordance with Israel’s rites.
God’s mercy on two righteous souls-
Two widows without any hope,
Is brought out by the story here:
“Believe the Lord and He will care.”
poem by John Celes
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