Related quotes: HE stood by the river's...

Alexander And Phillip

HE stood by the river's side
A conqueror and a king,
None match'd his step of pride
Amid the armed ring.
And a heavy echo rose from the ground,
As a thousand warriors gather'd round.
And the morning march had been long,
And the noontide sun was high,
And weariness bow'd down the strong,
And heat closed every eye;
And the victor stood by the river's brim
Whose coolness seem'd but made for him.

The cypress spread their gloom
Like a cloak from the noontide beam,
He flung back his dusty plume,
And plunged in the silver stream;
He plunged like the young steed, fierce and wild,
He was borne away like the feeble child.

They took the king to his tent
From the river's fatal banks,
A cry of terror went
Like a storm through the Grecian ranks:
Was this the fruit of their glories won,
Was this the death for AMMON'S son?

Many a leech heard the call,
But each one shrank away;
For heavy upon all
Was the weight of fear that day:
When a thought of treason, a word of death,
Was in each eye, and on each breath.

But one with the royal youth
Had been from his earliest hour,
And he knew that his heart was truth,
And he knew that his hand was power;
He gave what hope his skill might give,
And bade him trust to his faith and live.

ALEXANDER took the cup,
And from beneath his head a scroll,
He drank the liquor up,
And bade PHILLIP read the roll;
And PHILLIP look'd on the page, where shame,
Treason, and poison were named with his name.

An angry flush rose on his brow,
And anger darken'd his eye,
What I have done I would do again now!
If you trust my fidelity.
The king watch'd his face, he felt he might dare
Trust the faith that was written there.

Next day the conqueror rose
From a greater conqueror free;
And again he stood amid those
Who had died his death to see:
He stood there proud of the lesson he gave
That faith and trust were made for the brave.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Related quotes

Trust Me

trust me.
trust me to the end,
if you don't you are my enemy,
but one thing you got to know,
knowledge of self is faith,
faith is King,
King is leader,
leader is suffering for idiocy of others,
trust me the last chance
never set me up,
once or twice in my lifetime,
I can see inside my face,
Im at the right place,
you betrayed me,
you never loved me,
from away back I knew you would betray me,
never did I trust you than the self,
now Im glad Im off your life,
thanks God for my new life,
you know my function
as long as Im alive Im a live my own life,
to the fullest.

poem by Maxim Muyu
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God Has Such Amazing Faith

We talk about believing in God
Believing in lies believing in truth,
Being a living sacrifice, putting our full trust in something that we
Cannot even see
But man, God is the one who really has strong faith
How does such a being, full of power, trust us?

He had a legacy, He sent His only son to the world
That Son was His hope, His pride, His joy, the world's very Savior
And yet that same Son was crucified
And then He died
But through power He rose again
And gave that power, that exceeding gain
To us.
We have that Spirit
But God entrusted his legacy to mortal man
There is no evidence of the resurrection
That evidence is Jesus Himself who is seated on the throne
The Only evidence we have is the Holy Spirit
God's faith in us amazes me
That He'd trust a fallen people, not only with such power
But the legacy of His Son, His legacy.
That He'd entrust us to spread His gospel.
I can scarce believe that God had such faith
To leave the only evidence of Jesus and His resurrection
In the hearts of men

Thank you God for your faith and trust
It's hard for us to put our faith in You, You who is powerful
You who is merciful, You who is loving.
But in all your great mercy and love
You put your faith in us
To spread that gospel
To use that power
To continue the legacy
To listen to the Spirit
To make disciples
To live
Because before You
Before Your sacrifice
Before the new heart
Before the redemption
Before the forgiveness
Before the healing
We were all dead

So thank You God
Thank You for having faith in me, even when I doubt you
Thank You for having faith in us, when we're a skeptical people
So thank You for the cross
I'll
We'll continue that legacy
Your Spirit, God, You, will be the living and strong evidence
That you are powerful, that Jesus rose from the dead
Lord God
I'll
We'll carry this Spirit to the ends of the earth
Because YOUR love, YOUR grace, and God YOUR FAITH
They give us strength

poem by David Knox
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Casabianca

The boy stood on the burning deck
Whence all but he had fled;
The flame that lit the battle's wreck
Shone round him o'er the dead.
Yet beautiful and bright he stood,
As born to rule the storm;
A creature of heroic blood,
A proud, though childlike form.

The flames roll'd on...he would not go
Without his father's word;
That father, faint in death below,
His voice no longer heard.

He call'd aloud..."Say, father,say
If yet my task is done!"
He knew not that the chieftain lay
Unconscious of his son.

"Speak, father!" once again he cried
"If I may yet be gone!"
And but the booming shots replied,
And fast the flames roll'd on.

Upon his brow he felt their breath,
And in his waving hair,
And looked from that lone post of death,
In still yet brave despair;

And shouted but one more aloud,
"My father, must I stay?"
While o'er him fast, through sail and shroud
The wreathing fires made way,

They wrapt the ship in splendour wild,
They caught the flag on high,
And stream'd above the gallant child,
Like banners in the sky.

There came a burst of thunder sound...
The boy-oh! where was he?
Ask of the winds that far around
With fragments strewed the sea.

With mast, and helm, and pennon fair,
That well had borne their part;
But the noblest thing which perished there
Was that young faithful heart.

poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Faith, Hope, Trust

Faith is a feeling of misconception.
I have Faith in myself,
But should I have Faith in you?
The real challenge is retaining Faith in us.

Hope is a state that is unsteady.
I can Hope to find Faith,
But will Hope cure the fallacy that is us?
Hoping to have Faith gives life more demand.

Trust is an idea that troubles me.
I must Trust in my Hope of finding Faith,
But will that Trust finally induce our perfect peace?
Or should I Trust that your Faith in us is Hopeless?

In order to have Faith in us,
I must first show Faith in you.
Untill I believe you have Hope in us,
I'll keep the Hope that us is true.
And when you start to Trust in us,
You can Trust I will see it through.

poem by Blake Bishop
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Sons Faith, Mothers Pride And Joy

She stood looking down into the empty
Ground where her son would find his resting place.
Recalling her pride and joy, as he grew up
From a baby boy.
How he dreamt of things to come
As he played out in the sun
How he would walk with his head held high
And how she stood by his side.

He would always talk of how
he was destined to help others
And how his life would change
For every step had been pre-arranged.
He talked of things to come
And how it would be done.

He would say: there are many of us
Destined for greatness
but in different kinds of ways.
We just have to thank GOD and
get down on our knees and pray.

Many times I would ask: son! Why do you talk so!
And he would reply: many things we do not know.
But everything will be revealed in its
Proper time and place, and we will be blessed
By the LORDS holy grace.

The changes will not be world wide, and will
Be done a little at a time.
The same as GOD made everything in six days
And on the seventh he rested
So will our faith be tested.
You had always said that there are three things
In life. HOPE, FAITH, AND LOVE.
And one cannot exist without the other two
This was taught to me by you.
You had shown me the power and strength
In HOPE, FAITH, AND LOVE
By your belief in GOD above.
You have made me who I am today
And I thank GOD every day.

Some may see the glass as half full
And some may see it as half empty
I see it as a life of plenty.
You was put here as my mother to teach.
And I was put here as your son to learn.
And in my mind your lessons did burn.

And when it’s time for me to go
In your heart you will know
That I was destined to roam these skies
And to touch the heart of man
In every way that I can.

She recalled the words that he had said to her.
Mother! Why do you worry so?
You have instilled in me FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE
In my heart- and in CHRIST I’ve become a big part.

As they brought the casket to his final resting place
Everyone stood in amazement and awe
To what they had just saw.
she pulled back her shoulders and with
A smile on her face, she nodded to the priest
To give the last rites.

She stood with pride as they lowered the casket
Into the ground.
She stood with pride without making a sound.
She knew he was where he was destined to be
As the beautiful spirit flying free.
Everyone felt a chill, and they all looked around.
For they all knew “ he was heaven bound”.

poem by Louis Rams
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Sons Faith, Mothers Pride And Pain

He would always talk of how
he was destined to help others
And how his life would change
For every step had been pre-arranged.
He talked of things to come
And how it would be done.

He would say: there are many of us
Destined for greatness
but in different kinds of ways.
We just have to thank GOD and
get down on our knees and pray.

And when it’s time for me to go
In your heart you will know
That I was destined to roam these skies
And to touch the heart of man
In every way that I can.

She recalled the words that he had said to her.
Mother! Why do you worry so?
You have instilled in me FAITH, HOPE, AND LOVE
In my heart- and in CHRIST I’ve become a big part.

poem by Louis Rams
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The African Chief

Chained in the market-place he stood,
A man of giant frame,
Amid the gathering multitude
That shrunk to hear his name--
All stern of look and strong of limb,
His dark eye on the ground:--
And silently they gazed on him,
As on a lion bound.

Vainly, but well, that chief had fought,
He was a captive now,
Yet pride, that fortune humbles not,
Was written on his brow.
The scars his dark broad bosom wore,
Showed warrior true and brave;
A prince among his tribe before,
He could not be a slave.

Then to his conqueror he spake--
'My brother is a king;
Undo this necklace from my neck,
And take this bracelet ring,
And send me where my brother reigns,
And I will fill thy hands
With store of ivory from the plains,
And gold-dust from the sands.'

'Not for thy ivory nor thy gold
Will I unbind thy chain;
That bloody hand shall never hold
The battle-spear again.
A price thy nation never gave
Shall yet be paid for thee;
For thou shalt be the Christian's slave,
In lands beyond the sea.'

Then wept the warrior chief, and bade
To shred his locks away;
And one by one, each heavy braid
Before the victor lay.
Thick were the platted locks, and long,
And closely hidden there
Shone many a wedge of gold among
The dark and crisped hair.

'Look, feast thy greedy eye with gold
Long kept for sorest need:
Take it--thou askest sums untold,
And say that I am freed.
Take it--my wife, the long, long day,
Weeps by the cocoa-tree,
And my young children leave their play,
And ask in vain for me.'

'I take thy gold--but I have made
Thy fetters fast and strong,
And ween that by the cocoa shade
Thy wife will wait thee long.'
Strong was the agony that shook
The captive's frame to hear,
And the proud meaning of his look
Was changed to mortal fear.

His heart was broken--crazed his brain:
At once his eye grew wild;
He struggled fiercely with his chain,
Whispered, and wept, and smiled;
Yet wore not long those fatal bands,
And once, at shut of day,
They drew him forth upon the sands,
The foul hyena's prey.

poem by William Cullen Bryant
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These men of Faith

These men of Faith, these men of old,

Their lives they lived, they were so bold;

Trusting God, in the face of danger,

But their enemy, shunned them with anger.

We know of one great man, Daniel, was his name,

To Pray at the open window, he always did the same;

Then some jealous men, had him enter lions den,

For his faith in God, and On God he did depend.

Another man was Elijah, who helped so many,

And he had trouble with Jezebel, a life of jealousy;

Also king Ahab, and a wicked and evil king too,

But for their evil doing, they died, oh yes! It's true.

The next great man of Faith, was Enoch,

He lived and spoke only for the Lord God;

He was so very close, he did walk upright,

And God took Him home, he lived by Faith not sight.

One more man of Faith, I need to tell about,

Was Abraham, and to a new home he was sent out;

Also when his son Isaac, was to be offered to the Lord,

But a ram was supplied, his faith shone, it's in His Word.

These men are an example, and we should follow too,

Trust God in the face of Danger, Trust Him thru' and thru';

These men of God trusted and never gave into sin,

Because they loved God so much, He lived within.

poem by Margaret Haig
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The Battle of Shina, in Africa, Fought in 1800

King Shuac, the Giant of Mizra, war did declare
Against Ulva, King of Shina, telling him to prepare
And be ready for to meet him in the fight,
Which would commence the next morning before daylight.

When King Ulva heard the news, he told his warriors to prepare,
Then suddenly the clatter of arms sounded in the night air;
And the pale beams of the moon shone on coats of mail,
But not one bosom beneath them with fear did quail.

And bugles rang out their hoarse call,
And armed men gathered quickly, not in dread of their downfall;
For King Ulva resolved to go and meet Shuac,
So, by doing so, King Ulva's men courage didn't lack.

Therefore, the temple was lighted up anew,
And filled with armed warriors, bold and true;
And the King stood clad in his armour, and full of pride,
As he gazed upon his warriors, close by his side.

And he bowed himself to the ground,
While there was a deep silence around;
And he swore, by his false god of the all-seeing eye,
That he would meet Shuac, King of Mizra, and make him fly.

And I swear that in Shina peace shall remain,
And whatever thou desireth, supreme one, will not be in vain;
For thou shalt get what thou considereth to be most fit,
Though it be of my own flesh and blood, I swear it.

Then, when all was in readiness, they marched before the dawn,
Sixty thousand in number, and each a picked man;
And they marched on silently to take Shuac's army by surprise,
And attack him if possible, before sunrise.

King Shuac's army were about one hundred thousand strong,
And, when King Ulva heard so, he cried, We'll conquer them ere long,
Therefore, march on, brave men, we'll meet them before daybreak,
So, be resolute and conquer, and fight for Shina's sake.

Within a mile of the enemy's camp they lay all night,
Scarcely taking well-earned repose, they were so eager for the fight;
And when the morning broke clear and cloudless, with a burning sky,
Each warrior was wishing that the fight was begun.

And as the armies neared one another, across the fertile land,
It was a most imposing sight, and truly grand,
To see the warriors clad in armour bright,
Especially the form of Shuac, in the midst of the fight.

The royal guard, forming the vanguard, made the first attack,
Under the command of King Ulva, who courage didn't lack;
And cries of "King Ulva!" and "King Shuac!" rent the air,
While Shuac cried, I'll burn Shina to the ground, I now do swear!

King Shuac was mounted on a powerful steed,
Which pressed its way through the ranks with lightning speed;
And with its hoofs the earth it uptears,
Until, with a bound, it dashes through the ranks of opposing spears.

Then the two Kings met each other at last,
And fire flashed from their weapons, and blows fell fast;
But Shuac was the strongest of the two,
But King Ulva was his match with the club, Ulva knew.

Then, with his club, he gave Shuac a blow, which wounded him deep,
Crying out, Shuac, thy blood is deserting thee! thou art a sheep!
Cried Ulva, dealing him another fearful blow,
Then Shuac raised his club and rushed on his foe.

Then his blow fell, and knocked Ulva's club from his hand,
While both armies in amazement stand
To watch the hand-to-hand fight,
While Shuac's warriors felt great delight.

But there chanced to be a Scotchman in Ulva's army,
That had a loaded pistol, and he fired it immediately,
And shot King Shuac through the head,
And he toppled over to the ground killed stone dead!

Then the men of Mizra laid down their arms and fled
When they saw that their King was killed dead;
Then King Ulva said to the Scotchman, I am thy servant for ever,
For to thee I owe my life, and nought but death will us sever.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Hannibal's Oath

AND the night was dark and calm,
There was not a breath of air,
The leaves of the grove were still,
As the presence of death were there;

Only a moaning sound
Came from the distant sea,
It was as if, like life,
It had no tranquillity.

A warrior and a child
Pass'd through the sacred wood,
Which, like a mystery,
Around the temple stood.

The warrior's brow was worn
With the weight of casque and plume,
And sun-burnt was his cheek,
And his eye and brow were gloom.

The child was young and fair,
But the forehead large and high,
And the dark eyes' flashing light
Seem'd to feel their destiny.

They enter'd in the temple,
And stood before the shrine,
It stream'd with the victim's blood,
With incense and with wine.

The ground rock'd beneath their feet,
The thunder shook the dome,
But the boy stood firm, and swore
Eternal hate to Rome.

There's a page in history
O'er which tears of blood were wept,
And that page is the record
How that oath of hate was kept.

poem by Letitia Elizabeth Landon
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Awake Arise & See

Is God a man a man may fool?
Finite as all we see
Could Satan fashion such a tool
To thwart The King to be

Was this the reason of the tree?
The ruse he’d use to win
Or Jesus’ means to victory
To rid the world of sin

Is not The King of Heaven real?
The Lord almighty true
Is not His powerful arm to feel?
And still today to view!

The fool will say there is no God
The blind deceived will doubt
By faith we see and feel His rod
His strong right arm so stout

By faith alone mankind will live
By faith alone we see
We trust what Heaven has to give
And hope for that to be

By faith alone we understand
By faith alone we feel
Trusting in God’s almighty hand
The Lord will all reveal

Right here and now this can be done
Witnessed by all mankind
When trusting in The Father’s Son
A child’s no longer blind

Awake and see The Truth of Him
That wisdom can’t deny
Arise with eyes no longer dim
And trust The Lord on high

poem by Michael P. Johnson
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Psalm 18 part 1

v.1-6,15-18
L. M.
Deliverance from despair.

Thee will I love, O Lord, my strength,
My rock, my tower, my high defence:
Thy mighty arm shall be my trust,
For I have found salvation thence.

Death, and the terrors of the grave,
Stood round me with their dismal shade;
While floods of high temptations rose,
And made my sinking soul afraid.

I saw the op'ning gates of hell,
With endless pains and sorrows there,
Which none but they that feel can tell;
While I was hurried to despair.

In my distress I called my God,
When I could scarce believe him mine:
He bowed his ear to my complaint,
Then did his grace appear divine.

With speed he flew to my relief,
As on a cherub's wing he rode;
Awful and bright as lightning shone
The face of my deliverer, God.

Temptations fled at his rebuke,
The blast of his almighty breath;
He sent salvation from on high,
And drew me from the deeps of death.

Great were my fears, my foes were great,
Much was their strength, and more their rage;
But Christ, my Lord, is conqueror still,
In all the wars that devils wage.

My song for ever shall record
That terrible, that joyful hour;
And give the glory to the Lord,
Due to his mercy and his power

poem by Isaac Watts
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Back up the Hill

As I walked down to the river today
I met a man with no legs in a chair
we spoke about life and he stood tall in a way
as I walked down to the river

As I walked on I met a blind girl
who gave me directions just over the hill
for someone like me who was lost she could see
as I walked on to the river

Down by the banks I met a small child
whose mother and father had recently died
and he splashed around with a heartful of life
down by the banks of the river

As I looked in the river I saw a young man
a reflection of me if you understand
who thought he would end it as he coudn't cope
as I looked into the river

Considering the people I met on the way
they didn't give up I heard myself say
and though I believed that I'd been through the mill
I laughed at the river, and walked back up the hill.

poem by Charles M. Moore
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Where The Wild Roses Grow

Word and music by: nick cave
They call me the wild rose
But my name is elisa day
Why they call me it I do not know
For my name is elisa day
From the first day I saw her I knew she was the one
As she stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild
When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face
Chorus
On the second day I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman Id seen
I said, do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?
On the second day he came with a single red rose
Said: will you give me your loss and your sorrow?
I nodded my head, as I lay on the bed
He said, if I show you the roses will you follow?
Chorus
On the third day he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he stood smiling above me with a rock in his fist
On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
And she lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
As I kissed her goodbye, I said, all beauty must die
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth
Chorus

song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The American Forest Girl

Wildly and mournfully the Indian drum
On the deep hush of moonlight forests broke;
'Sing us a death-song, for thine hour is come,
So the red warriors to their captive spoke.
Still, and amidst those dusky forms alone,
A youth, a fair-hair'd youth of England stood,
Like a king's son; tho' from his cheek had flown
The mantling crimson of the island-blood,
And his press'd lips look'd marble. Fiercely bright,
And high around him, blaz'd the fires of night,

Rocking beneath the cedars to and fro,
As the wind pass'd, and with a fitful glow
Lighting the victim's face: But who could tell
Of what within his secret heart befel,
Known but to heaven that hour? Perchance a thought
Of his far home then so intensely wrought,
That its full image, pictur'd to his eye
On the dark ground of mortal agony,
Rose clear as day! and he might see the band,
Of his young sisters wand'ring hand in hand,
Where the laburnums droop'd; or haply binding
The jasmine, up the door's low pillars winding;
Or, as day clos'd upon their gentle mirth,
Gathering with braided hair, around the hearth
Where sat their mother; and that mother's face
Its grave sweet smile yet wearing in the place
Where so it ever smiled!Perchance the prayer
Learn'd at her knee came back on his despair;

The blessing from her voice, the very tone
Of her 'Good-night' might breathe from boyhood gone!
He started and look'd up: thick cypress boughs
Full of strange sound, wav'd o'er him, darkly red
In the broad stormy firelight; savage brows,
With tall plumes crested and wild hues o'erspread,
Girt him like feverish phantoms; and pale stars
Look'd thro' the branches as thro' dungeon bars,
Shedding no hope. He knew, he felt his doom
Oh! what a tale to shadow with its gloom
That happy hall in England! Idle fear!
Would the winds tell it? Who might dream or hear
The secret of the forests? to the stake
They bound him; and that proud young soldier strove
His father's spirit in his breast to wake,
Trusting to die in silence! He, the love
Of many hearts! the fondly rear'd, the fair,
Gladdening all eyes to see! And fetter'd there.

He stood beside his death-pyre, and the brand
Flamed up to light it, in the chieftain's hand.
He thought upon his God. Hush! hark! a cry
Breaks on the stern and dread solemnity,
A step hath pierc'd the ring! Who dares intrude
On the dark hunters in their vengeful mood?
A girl a young slight girl a fawn-like child
Of green Savannas and the leafy wild,
Springing unmark'd till then, as some lone flower,
Happy because the sunshine is its dower;
Yet one that knew how early tears are shed,
For hers had mourn'd a playmate brother dead.

She had sat gazing on the victim long,
Until the pity of her soul grew strong;
And, by its passion's deep'ning fervour sway'd,
Ev'n to the stake she rush'd, and gently laid
His bright head on her bosom, and around
His form her slender arms to shield it wound
Like close liannes; then rais'd her glittering eye
And clear-toned voice that said, 'He shall not die!'

'He shall not die!' the gloomy forest thrill'd
To that sweet sound. A sudden wonder fell
On the fierce throng; and heart and hand were still'd,
Struck down, as by the whisper of a spell.
They gaz'd their dark souls bow'd before the maid,
She of the dancing step in wood and glade!
And, as her cheek flush'd thro' its olive hue,
As her black tresses to the night-wind flew,
Something o'ermaster'd them from that young mienâ€“
Something of heaven, in silence felt and seen;
And seeming, to their child-like faith, a token
That the Great Spirit by her voice had spoken.

They loos'd the bonds that held their captive's breath;
From his pale lips they took the cup of death;
They quench'd the brand beneath the cypress tree;
'Away,' they cried, 'young stranger, thou art free!'

poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Trust Trust

Trust trust many have found
Trust trust no where around
Trust trust is what many say
Trust trust here i lay
Trust trust in my ear
Trust trust i cant find you my dear

Trust trust is hard to find
Trust trust are you apart of mankind
Trust trust im calling to you
Trust trust please give me a clue
Trust trust i need my love
Trust trust she came from up above

Trust trust what do i do
Trust trust do i believe my boo
Trust trust am i right
Trust trust please show me the light
Trust trust your driving me crazy
Trust trust your just to hazy

Trust trust i will find you
Trust trust i will never find anew
Trust trust help me out
Trust trust cause with this love i dont want to wipeout
Trust trust sarah's is my heart
Trust trust she's a beauty of art

poem by Cody Fortner
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Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf IV. -- Queen Sigrid The Haughty

Queen Sigrid the Haughty sat proud and aloft
In her chamber, that looked over meadow and croft.
Heart's dearest,
Why dost thou sorrow so?

The floor with tassels of fir was besprent,
Filling the room with their fragrant scent.

She heard the birds sing, she saw the sun shine,
The air of summer was sweeter than wine.

Like a sword without scabbard the bright river lay
Between her own kingdom and Norroway.

But Olaf the King had sued for her hand,
The sword would be sheathed, the river be spanned.

Her maidens were seated around her knee,
Working bright figures in tapestry.

And one was singing the ancient rune
Of Brynhilda's love and the wrath of Gudrun.

And through it, and round it, and over it all
Sounded incessant the waterfall.

The Queen in her hand held a ring of gold,
From the door of Ladé's Temple old.

King Olaf had sent her this wedding gift,
But her thoughts as arrows were keen and swift.

She had given the ring to her goldsmiths twain,
Who smiled, as they handed it back again.

And Sigrid the Queen, in her haughty way,
Said, 'Why do you smile, my goldsmiths, say?'

And they answered: 'O Queen! if the truth must be told,
The ring is of copper, and not of gold!'

The lightning flashed o'er her forehead and cheek,
She only murmured, she did not speak:

'If in his gifts he can faithless be,
There will be no gold in his love to me.'

A footstep was heard on the outer stair,
And in strode King Olaf with royal air.

He kissed the Queen's hand, and he whispered of love,
And swore to be true as the stars are above.

But she smiled with contempt as she answered: 'O King,
Will you swear it, as Odin once swore, on the ring?'

And the King: 'O speak not of Odin to me,
The wife of King Olaf a Christian must be.'

Looking straight at the King, with her level brows,
She said, 'I keep true to my faith and my vows.'

Then the face of King Olaf was darkened with gloom,
He rose in his anger and strode through the room.

'Why, then, should I care to have thee?' he said,--
'A faded old woman, a heathenish jade!

His zeal was stronger than fear or love,
And he struck the Queen in the face with his glove.

Then forth from the chamber in anger he fled,
And the wooden stairway shook with his tread.

Queen Sigrid the Haughty said under her breath,
'This insult, King Olaf, shall be thy death!'
Heart's dearest,
Why dost thou sorrow so?

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Adoration of the Wise Men

Saw you never in the twilight,
When the sun had left the skies,
Up in heaven the clear stars shining,
Through the gloom like silver eyes?

So of old the wise men watching,
Saw a little stranger star,
And they knew the King was given,
And they follow'd it from far.

Heard you never of the story,
How they cross'd the desert wild,
Journey'd on by plain and mountain,
Till they found the Holy Child?
How they open'd all their treasure,
Kneeling to that Infant King,
Gave the gold and fragrant incense,
Gave the myrrh in offering?

Know ye not that lowly Baby
Was the bright and morning star,
He who came to light the Gentiles,
And the darken'd isles afar?
And we too may seek his cradle,
There our heart's best treasures bring,
Love, and Faith, and true devotion,
For our Saviour, God, and King.

poem by Cecil Frances Alexander from Our American Holidays - Christmas
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Execution Of Montrose

COME hither, Evan Cameron!
Come, stand beside my knee:
I hear the river roaring down
Towards the wintry sea.
There ’s shouting on the mountain-side,
There ’s war within the blast;
Old faces look upon me,
Old forms go trooping past:
I hear the pibroch wailing
Amidst the din of fight,
And my dim spirit wakes again
Upon the verge of night.

’T was I that led the Highland host
Through wild Lochaber’s snows,
What time the plaided clans came down
To battle with Montrose.
I ’ve told thee how the Southrons fell
Beneath the broad claymore,
And how we smote the Campbell clan
By Inverlochy’s shore.
I ’ve told thee how we swept Dundee,
And tam’d the Lindsays’ pride;
But never have I told thee yet
How the great Marquis died.

A traitor sold him to his foes;
O deed of deathless shame!
I charge thee, boy, if e’er thou meet
With one of Assynt’s name—
Be it upon the mountain’s side,
Or yet within the glen,
Stand he in martial gear alone,
Or back’d by armed men—
Face him, as thou wouldst face the man
Who wrong’d thy sire’s renown;
Remember of what blood thou art,
And strike the caitiff down!

They brought him to the Watergate,
Hard bound with hempen span,
As though they held a lion there,
And not a fenceless man.
They set him high upon a cart,
The hangman rode below,
They drew his hands behind his back
And bar’d his noble brow.
Then, as a hound is slipp’d from leash,
They cheer’d the common throng,
And blew the note with yell and shout
And bade him pass along.

It would have made a brave man’s heart
Grow sad and sick that day,
To watch the keen malignant eyes
Bent down on that array.
There stood the Whig west-country lords,
In balcony and bow;
There sat their gaunt and wither’d dames,
And their daughters all a-row.
And every open window
Was full as full might be
With black-rob’d Covenanting carles,
That goodly sport to see!

But when he came, though pale and wan,
He look’d so great and high,
So noble was his manly front,
So calm his steadfast eye,
The rabble rout forbore to shout,
And each man held his breath,
For well they knew the hero’s soul
Was face to face with death.
And then a mournful shudder
Through all the people crept,
And some that came to scoff at him
Now turn’d aside and wept.

But onwards—always onwards,
In silence and in gloom,
The dreary pageant labor’d,
Till it reach’d the house of doom.
Then first a woman’s voice was heard
In jeer and laughter loud,
And an angry cry and a hiss arose
From the heart of the tossing crowd:
Then as the Graeme look’d upwards,
He saw the ugly smile
Of him who sold his king for gold,
The master-fiend Argyle!

The Marquis gaz’d a moment,
And nothing did he say,
But the cheek of Argyle grew ghastly pale
And he turn’d his eyes away.
The painted harlot by his side,
She shook through every limb,
For a roar like thunder swept the street,
And hands were clench’d at him;
And a Saxon soldier cried aloud,
“Back, coward, from thy place!
For seven long years thou hast not dar’d
To look him in the face.”

Had I been there with sword in hand,
And fifty Camerons by,
That day through high Dunedin’s streets
Had peal’d the slogan-cry.
Not all their troops of trampling horse,
Nor might of mailed men,
Not all the rebels in the south
Had borne us backwards then!
Once more his foot on Highland heath
Had trod as free as air,
Or I, and all who bore my name,
Been laid around him there!

It might not be. They placed him next
Within the solemn hall,
Where once the Scottish kings were thron’d
Amidst their nobles all.
But there was dust of vulgar feet
On that polluted floor,
And perju’d traitors fill’d the place
Where good men sate before.
With savage glee came Warristoun
To read the murderous doom;
And then uprose the great Montrose
In the middle of the room.

“Now, by my faith as belted knight,
And by the name I bear,
And by the bright Saint Andrew’s cross
That waves above us there,
Yea, by a greater, mightier oath—
And oh, that such should be!
By that dark stream of royal blood
That lies ’twixt you and me,
I have not sought in battle-field
A wreath of such renown,
Nor dar’d I hope on my dying day
To win the martyr’s crown!

“There is a chamber far away
Where sleep the good and brave,
But a better place ye have nam’d for me
Than by my father’s grave.
For truth and right, ’gainst treason’s might,
This hand hath always striven,
And ye raise it up for a witness still
In the eye of earth and heaven.
Then nail my head on yonder tower,
Give every town a limb,
And God who made shall gather them:
I go from you to Him!”

The morning dawn’d full darkly,
The rain came flashing down,
And the jagged streak of the levin-bolt
Lit up the gloomy town:
The thunder crash’d across the heaven,
The fatal hour was come;
Yet aye broke in with muffled beat
The ’larum of the drum.
There was madness on the earth below
And anger in the sky,
And young and old, and rich and poor,
Came forth to see him die.

Ah, God! that ghastly gibbet!
How dismal ’t is to see
The great tall spectral skeleton,
The ladder and the tree!
Hark! hark! it is the clash of arms—
The bells begin to toll—
“He is coming! he is coming!
God’s mercy on his soul!”
One last long peal of thunder:
The clouds are clear’d away,
And the glorious sun once more looks down
Amidst the dazzling day.

“He is coming! he is coming!”
Like a bridegroom from his room,
Came the hero from his prison
To the scaffold and the doom.
There was glory on his forehead,
There was lustre in his eye,
And he never walk’d to battle
More proudly than to die:
There was color in his visage,
Though the cheeks of all were wan,
And they marvell’d as they saw him pass,
That great and goodly man!

He mounted up the scaffold,
And he turn’d him to the crowd;
But they dar’d not trust the people,
So he might not speak aloud.
But he look’d upon the heavens,
And they were clear and blue,
And in the liquid ether
The eye of God shone through;
Yet a black and murky battlement
Lay resting on the hill,
As though the thunder slept within—
All else was clam and still.

The grim Geneva ministers
With anxious scowl drew near,
As you have seen the ravens flock
Around the dying deer.
He would not deign them word nor sign,
But alone he bent the knee,
And veil’d his face for Christ’s dear grace
Beneath the gallows-tree.
Then radiant and serene he rose,
And cast his cloak away:
For he had ta’en his latest look
Of earth and sun and day.

A beam of light fell o’er him,
Like a glory round the shriven,
And he climb’d the lofty ladder
As it were the path to heaven.
Then came a flash from out the cloud,
And a stunning thunder-roll;
And no man dar’d to look aloft,
For fear was on every soul.
There was another heavy sound,
A hush and then a groan;
And darkness swept across the sky—
The work of death was done!

poem by William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Trust in Him

You do all you can, to make it on your own
And you need someone, will feeling all along
God will bring you through the storm and the rain
Just keep you head up high, and the sun will shine again
Just Trust in Him
Believe
Just Trust in Him
Hold on Tight
Just Trust in Him
Believe
Just Trust in Him
Everything will be alright
Life can get hard, but you made it this far
If you trust him, when theirs noone else around
I know this, because I lost my way
Just keep the faith, because tomorrow's another day
Just Trust in Him
Believe
Just Trust in Him
Hold on Tight
Just Trust in Him
Believe
Just Trust in Him
Everything will be alright
God will pick you up, when trials come your way
It may seem hard, you can't make it through day
That's when you just have to say
Please Restore Me, When I Pray
Just Trust in Him
Just Trust in Him
Just say it's o.k
Just say o.k

poem by Natasha McGee
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