Related quotes: All through the cold night,...

What The Sleepless Grandam Thinks

All through the cold night, beating wings shadowy
Sweep o'er the church-village poor,--
Only one Grandam a hundred years hoary,
Findeth her slumber no more.

Harkens, if cocks to the dawn be not crowing,
Rolls on her oven and weeps,
Sees all her past rising up to confront her--
O'er her soul shameful it creeps!

'Woe to me sinner old! Woe! Once I cheated--
When from the church door I ran,
And in the depths of the forest strayed hidden
With my beloved Ivan.

'Woe to me! Burning in hell's leaping fires
Surely will soon be my soul!
I took a pair of eggs once at a neighbor's--
Out from her hen--yes, I stole!

'Once at the harvest at home I did linger--
Swore I was deadly sick,--when
Taking my part in the drunken carousals
Saturday night with the men!

'Light was I ever with soldiers! Yet cursing
God's name, when from me at last,--
My own son they took for a soldier!
Even drank cream on a fast.

'Woe to me sinner! Woe to me wretched one!
Woe! My heart broken will be!
Holy Madonna, have pity, have mercy!
Into court go not with me!'

poem by Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
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Bat Out Of Hell (edit)

The sirens are screaming and the fires are howling,
way down in the valley tonight.
There's a man in the shadows with a gun in his eye,
and a blade shining oh so bright.
There's evil in the air and there's thunder in sky,
and A killer's on the bloodshot streets.
Oh and down in the tunnel where the deadly are rising,
Oh I swear I saw a young boy down in the gutter,
He was starting to foam in the heat.
Oh baby you're the only thing in this whole world,
that's pure and good and right.
And wherever you are and wherever you go,
there's always gonna be some light.
But I gotta get out,
I gotta break it out now,
Before the final crack of dawn.
So we gotta make the most of our one night together.
When it's over you know,
We'll both be so alone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the night is over
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone gone gone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
But when the day is done and the sun goes down,
and the moonlights shining through,
Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.
I'm gonna hit the highway like a battering ram,
on a silver black phantom bike.
When the metal is hot and the engine is hungry,
and we're all about to see the light.
Nothing ever grows in this rotting old hole.
Everything is stunted and lost.
And nothing really rocks
And nothing really rolls
And nothing's ever worth the cost.
And I know that I'm damned if I never get out,
And maybe I'm damned if I do,
But with every other beat I've got left in my heart,
You know I'd rather be damned with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanns be damned,
dancing through the night with you.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned.
Gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned.
If I gotta be damned you know I wanna be damned,
Dancing through the night
Dancing through the night
Dancing through the night with you.
Oh baby you're the only thing in this whole world,
that's pure and good and right.
And wherever you are and wherever you go,
there's always gonna be some light.
But I gotta get out,
I gotta break it out now,
Before the final crack of dawn.
So we gotta make the most of our one night together.
When it's over you know,
We'll both be so alone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
When the night is over
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone gone gone.
Like a bat out of hell
I'll be gone when the morning comes.
But when the day is done and the sun goes down,
and the moonlights shining through,
Then like a sinner before the gates of heaven,
I'll come crawling on back to you.
I can see myself tearing up the road,
Faster than any other boy has ever gone.
And my skin is raw but my soul is ripe.
No-one's gonna stop me now,
I gotta make my escape.
But I can't stop thinking of you,
and I never see the sudden curve until it's way too late.
I never see the sudden curve 'till it's way too late.
Then I'm dying at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun.
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike.
And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell.
And the last thing I see is my heart,
Still beating,
Breaking out of my body,
And flying away,
Like a bat out of hell.
Then I'm dying at the bottom of a pit in the blazing sun.
Torn and twisted at the foot of a burning bike.
And I think somebody somewhere must be tolling a bell.
And the last thing I see is my heart.
Still beating, still beating,
Breaking out of my body and flying away,
Like a bat out of hell.
Like a bat out of hell.
Like a bat out of hell.
Oh like a bat out of hell!
Oh like a bat out of hell!
Like a bat out of hell

song performed by by Meat Loaf
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Luck Story

Well, I was thinking that I shoulda,
But I didnt ever leave you,
But baby, Im leavin tonight
And theres a trucker drinking coffee in the station who can give me a ride.
Well, I was thinking about a heading to mobile, alabama
And that was just last saturday night.
I can leave you if I wanna, little baby and Im gonna tonight.
Cause I got a bucket full of tears and a hard luck story
Theres a bad moon rising behind
And I swore it to your daddy that I loved you, but I changed my mind.
Well, Im a fast talking, hell raising, son of a bitch
And Im a sinner and I know how to fight
Well, I can leave you if I wanna, little baby and Im gonna tonight.
Cause I got a bucket full of tears and a hard luck story
Theres a bad moon rising behind
And I swore it to your daddy that I loved you, but I changed my mind.
Well, Im a fast talking, hell raising, son of a bitch
And Im a sinner and I know how to fight
Cause I can leave you if I wanna, little baby and Im gonna tonight.
Well I was sitting, I was drinking on a barstool
Thinking how true love becomes a lie
And I never should have left you
But I had to, and I betcha theres a man there with you tonight.
And I swore it to your daddy that I missed you, but I didnt
If I came back it wouldnt be right.
Cause I can leave you if I wanna, little baby and Im gonna tonight.

song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hard Luck Story

song performed by by Whiskeytown
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Both Ends Burning

(ferry)
Please dont ever let me down
cause you know Im not so sure
Do I have the speed to carry on
Burn you out of my mind, I know
Youre a flame that never fades
Jungle reds a deadly shade
Both ends burning, will the fires keep
Somewhere deep in my soul tonight
Both ends burning
Burning
Burn
Now my course is plain as day
Running bold across to play
Both ends burning with a strange desire
That feeds the fire in my soul tonight
I will dance the night away
Living only for today
Both ends burning while youre counting sheep
Hell-- who can sleep in this heat this night?
Tell me will I ever learn?
Its too late, the rush is on
Both ends burning and I cant control
The fires raging in my soul tonight
Oh will it never end?
Put your foot around the bend
Drive me crazy to an early grave
Tell me what is there to save tonight
Both ends burning
Burning
Burn
Keep on burning till the end, until the end
Keep on burning till the end, the very end

song performed by by Roxy Music
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Heredity

A soldier of the Cromwell stamp,
With sword and psalm-book by his side,
At home alike in church and camp:
Austere he lived, and smileless died.

But she, a creature soft and fine-
From Spain, some say, some say from France;
Within her veins leapt blood like wine-
She led her Roundhead lord a dance!

In Grantham church they lie asleep;
Just where, the verger may not know.
Strange that two hundred years should keep
The old ancestral fires aglow!

In me these two have met again;
To each my nature owes a part:
To one, the cool and reasoning brain;
To one, the quick, unreasoning heart.

poem by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Day dawn

All yesterday the thought of you was resting in my soul,
And when sleep wandered o'er the world that very thought she stole
To fill my dreams with splendour such as stars could not eclipse,
And in the morn I wakened with your name upon my lips.

Awakened, my beloved, to the morning of your eyes,
Your splendid eyes, so full of clouds, wherein a shadow tries
To overcome the flame that melts into the world of grey,
As coming suns dissolve the dark that veils the edge of day.

Cool drifts the air at dawn of day, cool lies the sleeping dew,
But all my heart is burning, for it woke from dreams of you;
And O! these longing eyes of mine look out and only see
A dying night, a waking day, and calm on all but me.

So gently creeps the morning through the heavy air,
The dawn grey-garbed and velvet-shod is wandering everywhere
To wake the slumber-laden hours that leave their dreamless rest,
With outspread, laggard wings to court the pillows of the west.

Up from the earth a moisture steals with odours fresh and soft,
A smell of moss and grasses warm with dew, and far aloft
The stars are growing colourless, while drooping in the west,
A late, wan moon is paling in a sky of amethyst.

The passing of the shadows, as they waft their pinions near,
Has stirred a tender wind within the night-hushed atmosphere,
That in its homeless wanderings sobs in an undertone
An echo to my heart that sobbing calls for you alone.

The night is gone, beloved, and another day set free,
Another day of hunger for the one I may not see.
What care I for the perfect dawn? the blue and empty skies?
The night is always mine without the morning of your eyes.

poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Oven Liet

Where the flesh goes,
The mind follows.

The body is weak.
Why she left me alone.
How she got sick.
And no one calls the phone.

Never had to cook with her around
Now I found a light in the most unexpected place
The oven.

I sit in the dark tonight
In the kitchen
With only the oven light
While I try to mend.

And I brood like a chicken with her eggs
My seat feels like it's hatching
My bottom is burning
My soul squirming like a worm
Or a snake.

Yellow.
The color of companionship.
Cowardly, fearful, impertinent.
I stare into the oven

Light.

poem by Eon Ezkiel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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O silent night, O holy night, O night divine!

A silent night. It was a long, long silent night.
The hopes and dreams were lost for many years.
The sin's chains kept the cages full.
The wings were broken, nobody could fly,
The prophecies were forgotten, with no freedom in the sight.

O silent night, O holy night,
The hope is shining over the lost world, again.
The stars, filled with wonder,
join the angels clothed in light,
and sing a majestic song together.
At the break of dawn, at the edge of the village,
a Savior is born and laid in a manger.

O silent night, O holy night,
The King of Kings, a humble birth
Goodwill to men and peace on Earth!

Knees of clay pray in silence,
We bring gifts to the newborn King,
On the love's altar, the hearts are burning,
The souls grow wings and fly to kiss the heavens.

It snows slowly with flakes of blessings over the Earth,
The smiling Child has secretly given me a star.
I keep it forever in my heart to remind me of this Christmas Night.
It is mine. It shines, and it shines...
O silent night, O holy night, O night divine!

poem by Marius Alexandru (12 December 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Walk With God

Why does one walk with God, and why does a heart humbly nod,
While a sinner in the present life, to follow as Lord, Jesus Christ?
What are the choices one will make, as former ways they forsake,
Ignoring all that others will say, as they choose in life a new way?

No soul will move towards God, upon the earth we presently trod,
Unless the person is drawn by, the Spirit of God, Who is on High.
Their heart by God is stirred within, that sinner lost and wandering,
And given eyes so they will see, the need for The God of Eternity.

A need they never saw before, the Savior knocked upon the door,
The very door of their own heart, for the new life with God to start,
And at that moment they believe, The Holy Spirit, they will receive,
Thus, beginning a New Life when, that sinner becomes Born Again.

It is only after that spiritual birth, the things of God have real worth,
When given new sight from above, God’s Spirit kindles a new love,
A flame in your heart becomes a fire, with new purpose and desire,
Walking with God you’ll soon find, the former ways are left behind.

With a desire to walk in The Light, to help men still lost in the night,
Persuading others to open the door, to a life in Christ forevermore,
So as the Spirit of God moves in, they leave a present path of sin,
To join that race with you and me, on the new path to Life Eternally.

poem by Bob Gotti
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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First Sunday In Lent

"Angel of wrath! why linger in mid-air,
While the devoted city's cry
Louder and louder swells? and canst thou spare,
Thy full-charged vial standing by?"
Thus, with stern voice, unsparing Justice pleads:
He hears her not--with softened gaze
His eye is following where sweet Mercy leads,
And till she give the sign, his fury stays.

Guided by her, along the mountain road,
Far through the twilight of the morn,
With hurried footsteps from the accursed abode
He sees the holy household borne;
Angels, or more, on either hand are nigh,
To speed them o'er the tempting plain,
Lingering in heart, and with frail sidelong eye
Seeking how near they may unharmed remain.

"Ah! wherefore gleam those upland slopes so fair?
And why, through every woodland arch,
Swells yon bright vale, as Eden rich and rare,
Where Jordan winds his stately march;
If all must be forsaken, ruined all,
If God have planted but to burn? -
Surely not yet the avenging shower will fall,
Though to my home for one last look I turn."

Thus while they waver, surely long ago
They had provoked the withering blast,
But that the merciful Avengers know
Their frailty well, and hold them fast.
"Haste, for thy life escape, nor look behind" -
Ever in thrilling sounds like these
They check the wandering eye, severely kind,
Nor let the sinner lose his soul at ease.

And when, o'erwearied with the steep ascent,
We for a nearer refuge crave,
One little spot of ground in mercy lent,
One hour of home before the grave,
Oft in His pity o'er His children weak,
His hand withdraws the penal fire,
And where we fondly cling, forbears to wreak
Full vengeance, till our hearts are weaned entire.

Thus, by the merits of one righteous man,
The Church, our Zoar, shall abide,
Till she abuse, so sore, her lengthened span,
E'en Mercy's self her face must hide.
Then, onward yet a step, thou hard-won soul;
Though in the Church thou know thy place,
The mountain farther lies--there seek thy goal,
There breathe at large, o'erpast thy dangerous race.

Sweet is the smile of home; the mutual look
When hearts are of each other sure;
Sweet all the joys that crowd the household nook,
The haunt of all affections pure;
Yet in the world e'en these abide, and we
Above the world our calling boast;
Once gain the mountain-top, and thou art free:
Till then, who rest, presume; who turn to look, are lost.

poem by John Keble
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Blind Girl

Kind Christians, pray list to me,
And I'll relate a sad story,
Concerning a little blind girl, only nine years of age,
Who lived with her father in a lonely cottage.

Poor girl, she had never seen the blessed light of day,
Nor the beautiful fields of corn and hay,
Nor the sparrows, that lifted their heads at early morn
To bright Sol that does the hills adorn.

And near the cottage door there was an elm tree;
But that stunted elm tree she never did see,
Yet her little heart sometimes felt gay
As she listened to the thrushes that warbled the live-long day.

And she would talk to the wren when alone,
And to the wren she would her loneliness bemoan,
And say, "Dear little wren, come again to-morrow;
Now be sure and come, your singing will chase away my sorrow."

She was motherless, but she had a drunken father,
Who in his savage moods drank all he could gather,
And would often cruelly beat her until she would cry,
"Dear father, if you beat me I will surely die."

She spent the days in getting ready her father's food,
Which was truly for her drunken father's good;
But one night he came home, reeling drunk,
And the poor child's heart with fear sunk;

And he cried, "You were at the door when I came up the lane;
Take that, you good-for-nothing slut; you're to blame
For not having my supper ready; you will find
That's no excuse, Sarah, because you are blind."

And with a stick he struck her as he spoke
Across the shoulders, until the stick almost broke;
Crying aloud, "I'll teach you better, you little sneak;"
And with the beating, Sarah's heart was like to break.

Poor little Sarah had never seen the snow;
She knew it was beautiful white, some children told her so;
And in December, when the snow began to fall,
She would go to the door and make a snowball.

One day she'd been very cheerless and alone,
Poor child, and so cold, almost chilled to the bone;
For her father had spent his wages in drink,
And for want of fire she was almost at death's brink.

Her face was pinched with hunger but she never complained,
And her little feet with cold were chilblained,
And her father that day had not come home for dinner,
And the dull grey sky was all of a shimmer.

So poor Sarah was very sick when her father came home;
So bad, little dear, that she did sigh and moan,
And when her father saw her in bed
He was heart-stricken with fear and dread.

So within a few days poor Sarah did die,
And for the loss of Sarah the drunken father did cry,
So the loss of his child soon converted him
From drinking either whiskey, rum or gin.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hymn 71

Christ found in the street, and brought to the church.

SS 3:1-5

Often I seek my Lord by night,
Jesus, my Love, my soul's delight;
With warm desire and restless thought
I seek him oft, but find him not.

Then I arise and search the street,
Till I my Lord, my Savior meet:
I ask the watchmen of the night,
"Where did you see my soul's delight?"

Sometimes I find him in my way,
Directed by a heav'nly ray;
I leap for joy to see his face,
And hold him fast in mine embrace.

[I bring him to my mother's home,
Nor does my Lord refuse to come
To Zion's sacred chambers, where
My soul first drew the vital air.

He gives me there his bleeding heart,
Pierced for my sake with deadly smart;
I give my soul to him, and there
Our loves their mutual tokens share.]

I charge you, all ye earthly toys,
Approach not to disturb my joys;
Nor sin nor hell come near my heart,
Nor cause my Savior to depart.

poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Church Of Your Heart

Cant we leave the world outside
Just for a while? just for a while?
Spend some time, you and i
Under this bright glorious sky
Its been so long since I first saw you
But I still love that smile in your eyes
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you, that make me part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Step inside, lay yourself down
Just for a while, rest for a while
I can hear a thundering sound
Beating inside when youre around
Its been so long since I first met you
Since we made love, you know how time flies
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart
Yes its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
Pretty baby its true, right from the start
I believed in the church of your heart
Yes its you that make me be part of
And I believe in the church of your heart
In the church of your heart

song performed by by Roxette
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Yonder Stands The Sinner

Well, you heard about the great pretender?
I went to see him and hes not the same
Down by the club on the parking lot cinders
I was to meet him and play his game.
Yonder stands the sinner
He calls my name without a sound.
I saw his face in the attic window
Yellin down through the broken pane
Sinner man! what you got to run for?
Church bells rang when he said that name.
Yonder stands the sinner
He calls my name without a sound.
Well, I was about as scared as I could be.
I went and hid behind the nearest tree.
Peeked out from behind the branches.
Sinner!
Yonder stands the sinner
He calls my name without a sound
To get down.
I guess you heard about the great pretender?
I went to see him and hes not the same.
I guess you heard about the great pretender?
I went to see him and hes not the same.

song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Church Is Built On Bloody Bones

The church is built on bloody bones,
Broken martyrs, burning homes;
The church is built on bloody bones-
Not singing angels, golden thrones.

The church is built on murder, rage,
Plunder, anger and pillage;
The church is built on murder, rage-
There's no escaping murders wage.

The church you choose informs your soul,
If you're shattered, if you're whole;
The church you choose informs your soul-
So be sure it's worthy goal.

poem by Patti Masterman
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The Incense

A starless night and the fragrant smoke from your altar
That brings uneasy to my sinner soul.
Am I an outcast?
My beloved! Does any confession written in your holy books?
Or I'll be vanished like the smoke into the barren sky.

poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Pool Of Bethesda

Beside the gospel pool
Appointed for the poor;
From year to year, my helpless soul
Has waited for a cure.

How often have I seen
The healing waters move;
And others, round me, stepping in
Their efficacy prove.

But my complaints remain,
I feel the very same;
As full of guilt, and fear, and pain.
As when at first I came.

O would the Lord appear
My malady to heal;
He knows how long I've languished here;
And what distress I feel.

How often have I thought
Why should I longer lie?
Surely the mercy I have sought
Is not for such as I.

But whither can I go?
There is no other pool
Where streams of sovereign virtue flow
To make a sinner whole.

Here then, from day to day,
I'll wait, and hope, and try;
Can Jesus hear a sinner pray,
Yet suffer him to die?

No: he is full of grace;
He never will permit
A soul, that fain would see his face,
To perish at his feet.

poem by John Newton
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The Bitter Waters