To the University of Cambridge
While an intrinsic ardor prompts to write,
The muses promise to assist my pen;
'Twas not long since I left my native shore
The land of errors, and Egyptian gloom:
Father of mercy, 'twas thy gracious hand
Brought me in safety from those dark abodes.
Students, to you 'tis giv'n to scan the heights
Above, to traverse the ethereal space,
And mark the systems of revolving worlds.
Still more, ye sons of science ye receive
The blissful news by messengers from heav'n,
How Jesus' blood for your redemption flows.
See him with hands out-stretcht upon the cross;
Immense compassion in his bosom glows;
He hears revilers, nor resents their scorn:
What matchless mercy in the Son of God!
When the whole human race by sin had fall'n,
He deign'd to die that they might rise again,
And share with him in the sublimest skies,
Life without death, and glory without end.
Improve your privileges while they stay,
Ye pupils, and each hour redeem, that bears
Or good or bad report of you to heav'n.
Let sin, that baneful evil to the soul,
By you be shun'd, nor once remit your guard;
Suppress the deadly serpent in its egg.
Ye blooming plants of human race divine,
An Ethiop tells you 'tis your greatest foe;
Its transient sweetness turns to endless pain,
And in immense perdition sinks the soul.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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Related quotes
Race
Lie down, [fair 1//pheromone], and come away
Till the rain is over and gone
G-g-gimme the beat now (face the music)
Lead line (face the music)
If the air is a little thick in this room 2nite
I reckon its the result of an onslaught of separatist rookies
Overcome by this colorful sight
Talkin so fast that even they
Talkin so fast that even they
Dont know what they mean
Of all the things that base a rhyme
How is it that u everytime
Regurgitate the racist lines that keep us apart?
Thank God this aint monopoly
Ud make us all go back 2 start
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
Check it
Three seats over theres a lady black
Entrusted 2 her care is a little white girl
And the fact of the matter is
Before her momma or another kid at school
Tells her about the fallacy that 1 race rules over the other
Shed be a much-better-off-left fool (face the music)
If we never heard about the evils that those before us committed
Then how my dear, tell me now how my dear, tell me now how now would we know
And then the band say
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
I gotcha
Race
Race
(face the music)
D-d-down with h-i-s-t-o-r-y and all this bs propagandi
Keepin u from me and me from u as we grow
I dont wanna know (I dont wanna know)
Why those before us hated each other
Id rather believe they never did
Id rather believe (Id rather, Id rather believe)
That theres hope 4 a kid
And if he imitates the best
I guess thats what Ill try 2 be
And I will let the rest dissolve with my guitar underneath the sea
Race
(face face face face face)
Face the music (face the music)
Face the music
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Race
Face the music
We all bones when we dead
Race
In the space I mark human (face the music)
Cut me, cut u
Both the blood is red
Get it?
Race
Got it
Race
Face the music
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
(face face face the music)
Race race
Race race
(face-f-face the music)
Race
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn 95
Regeneration.
John 1:13; 3:3, etc.
Not all the outward forms on earth,
Nor rites that God has giv'n,
Nor will of man, nor blood, nor birth,
Can raise a soul to heav'n.
The sovereign will of God alone
Creates us heirs of grace
Born in the image of his Son,
A new, peculiar race.
The Spirit, like some heav'nly wind,
Blows on the sons of flesh,
New-models all the carnal mind,
And forms the man afresh.
Our quickened souls awake, and rise
From the long sleep of death;
On heav'nly things we fix our eyes,
And praise employs our breath.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Universal Prayer
Father of all! In every age,
In ev'ry clime ador'd,
By saint, by savage, and by sage,
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!
Thou Great First Cause, least understood,
Who all my sense confin'd
To know but this, that Thou art good,
And that myself am blind:
Yet gave me, in this dark estate,
To see the good from ill;
And, binding Nature fast in Fate,
Left free the human Will.
What Conscience dictates to be done,
Or warns me not to do;
This teach me more than Hell to shun,
That more than Heav'n pursue.
What blessings thy free bounty gives
Let me not cast away;
For God is paid when man receives;
T' enjoy is to obey.
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.
Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Presume thy bolts to throw,
And teach damnation round the land
On each I judge thy foe.
If I am right, thy grace impart,
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, O teach my heart
To find that better way.
Save me alike from foolish Pride
Or impious Discontent,
At aught thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught that goodness lent.
Teach me to feel another's woe,
To right the fault I see:
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.
Mean tho' I am, not wholly so,
Since quicken'd by thy breath;
O lead me whereso'er I go,
Thro' this day's life or death!
This day be bread and peace my lot:
All else beneath the sun
Though know'st if best bestow'd or not,
And let Thy will be done.
To Thee, whose temple is of Space,
Whose altar earth, sea, skies,
One chorus let all Beings raise!
All Nature's incense rise!
poem by Alexander Pope
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God’s Eternal Presence
Friend you can see the hand of God, all across this earth men trod.
The presence of God is everywhere, even in lives who do not care.
The Lord is omnipresent friend; a presence man can’t comprehend.
Friend, even in this land of ours, His presence extends to the stars.
And men are blessed in this place, with God’s overwhelming Grace.
This country is blessed abundantly, by The God that man can’t see.
Friend God’s love for us will endure, in this land from shore to shore,
That is, for those men in this life, who’ve come to know Jesus Christ.
But there are men on another path, heading for God’s Eternal Wrath.
He is also a God of Justice friend, and He shall put all evil to an end.
As vengeance belongs to The Lord; and His judgment will be poured.
That’s when every eye shall see, Jesus Christ is The Lord of Eternity.
But His Mercy God extends to all, all under the curse of Adam’s fall.
A mercy to us, so underserved, for the sinfulness that we’ve served.
The death that we’re deserving of, Christ justified through His Love.
The Love of His Son Jesus Christ, who on the cross paid that price.
The Love of God is second to none, for He sent to us His Only Son,
Christ who died a death on a cross, a sinless lamb slain for the lost.
God’s gift to men sent from above, Gracious Mercy wrapped in Love.
And through the death of Jesus Christ, all men can gain Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©01/2006)
Hymn 145
Christ and Aaron.
Heb. 7; 9.
Jesus, in thee our eyes behold
A thousand glories more,
Than the rich gems and polished gold
The sons of Aaron wore.
They first their own burnt-offerings brought,
To purge themselves from sin;
Thy life was pure without a spot,
And all thy nature clean.
[Fresh blood as constant as the day
Was on their altar spilt;
But thy one offering takes away
For ever all our guilt.]
[Their priesthood ran through several hands,
For mortal was their race;
Thy never-changing office stands
Eternal as thy days.]
[Once in the circuit of a year,
With blood, but not his own,
Aaron within the veil appears
Before the golden throne:
But Christ, by his own powerful blood,
Ascends above the skies,
And in the presence of our God
Shows his own sacrifice.]
Jesus, the King of glory, reigns
On Zion's heav'nly hill;
Looks like a lamb that has been slain,
And wears his priesthood still.
He ever lives to intercede
Before his Father's face:
Give him, my soul, thy cause to plead,
Nor doubt the Father's grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Jesus Christ, Our Hope, Strength and Refuge!
For sins of human beings all,
Lord Jesus laid His life on cross;
Although a sin-free soul Himself,
He suffered, died to redeem man.
He shed His every dropp of blood,
Emancipating human race
From punishment by hell for sins –
Such heinous crimes upon the earth!
The cross is part of Christian’s life,
And persecutions will happen,
As Christ predicted all these things,
For those who walked in His foot-steps!
His Holy Spirit guides Christians,
Who live a righteous life for Christ,
The only Son of Almighty –
A heart of immense love for man!
But Christ resurrected from death!
He won clear victory o’er satan;
All Christians good will do the same;
This faith is something strangely true.
Let humiliations come in life!
Let trials, tribulations come!
Let strife threaten our faith and hope!
Christ stays with us till end of time!
A Christian takes his cross and walks
Behind the Savior, Jesus Christ –
The Light and Truth and only Way
To reach Heaven, abode of God!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-31-2009
poem by John Celes
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One Being Brought From Africa To America
'TWAS mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought now knew,
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
'Their colour is a diabolic die.'
Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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From an Essay on Man
Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of fate,
All but the page prescrib'd, their present state:
From brutes what men, from men what spirits know:
Or who could suffer being here below?
The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today,
Had he thy reason, would he skip and play?
Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food,
And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.
Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n,
That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n:
Who sees with equal eye, as God of all,
A hero perish, or a sparrow fall,
Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd,
And now a bubble burst, and now a world.
Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar;
Wait the great teacher Death; and God adore.
What future bliss, he gives not thee to know,
But gives that hope to be thy blessing now.
Hope springs eternal in the human breast:
Man never is, but always to be blest:
The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home,
Rests and expatiates in a life to come.
Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind
Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind;
His soul, proud science never taught to stray
Far as the solar walk, or milky way;
Yet simple nature to his hope has giv'n,
Behind the cloud topp'd hill, an humbler heav'n;
Some safer world in depth of woods embrac'd,
Some happier island in the wat'ry waste,
Where slaves once more their native land behold,
No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold.
To be, contents his natural desire,
He asks no angel's wing, no seraph's fire;
But thinks, admitted to that equal sky.
poem by Alexander Pope
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On Being Brought from Africa to America
'Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there's a God, that there's a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
"Their colour is a diabolic die."
Remember, Christians, Negro's, black as Cain,
May be refin'd, and join th' angelic train.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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Lenten Reflections
The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ
A Divine plan
Prophesied in Scriptures
A supreme sacrifice
Unquestionable obedience to the Father in Heaven;
Inhuman sufferings
Torture untold
Excruciating pain
Ignominious death on the cross
Most precious blood-shed
Love unparalleled
Forgiving heart without limits
Humble unto death
Redemption of sinners
Soul of unsurpassed purity
Incomparable patience
Victory over death through resurrection
Mystery of death
Mankind’s sins forgiven for eternity
Heaven’s gates opened to all who repent
A spotless lamb killed most unfairly
Begotten Son in whom God the Father was well pleased
A divine tragedy with a surprising end
Scriptures fulfilled fully
Jesus Christ, Savior of the Human race!
Second person in the Holy Trinity
Basis of faith, hope and joy of every Christian
Annihilation of the forces of evil
One, true, living Omnipotent God
The Truth, Light and Way.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-28-2006
poem by John Celes
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The Great Mercy
Betwixt the saddle and the ground
Was mercy sought and mercy found.
Yea, in the twinkling of an eye,
He cried; and Thou hast heard his cry.
Between the bullet and its mark
Thy face made morning in his dark.
And while the shell sang on its path
Thou hast run, Thou hast run, preventing death.
Thou hast run before and reached the goal,
Gathered to Thee the unhoused soul.
Thou art not bound by Time or Space:
So fast Death runs : Thou hast won the race.
Thou hast said to beaten Death: Go tell
Of victories thou once hadst. All's well!
Death, here none die but thee and Sin
Now the great days of Life begin.
And to the Soul: This day I rise
And thee with Me to Paradise.
Betwixt the saddle and the ground
Was Mercy sought and Mercy found.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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A Soul's Prayer
Enflame my heart with love divine, O God;
Enkindle it with fountains of your grace;
Pour forth your wisdom in some way, O Lord;
Give me the heav'nly gaze and sheen of face!
This earthly life is good but bad as well;
It's ephemeral nature's clearly felt;
At times, the place becomes almost like hell;
My virtues, will-pow'r, faith and hope all melt!
Look down with favour Lord, upon this soul!
It writhes in pain and shame of sins galore;
Without your help, it can't improve its role;
Shower your grace and mercy ever more!
The crafty Tempter's always on the prowl;
I cannot keep alert all through my life;
My soul with sin soon brims, o'erflows its bowl;
My faith and hope seems lost in newer strife!
Hearken O Lord, to my pleas, cry, I pray!
Forsake me not for moment's time even;
My tongue turns dry by praying night and day;
I yearn to always keep on road to heav'n!
poem by John Celes
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Early Works - Race For Space
In long corridors of time and space
linger men caught within a race
to get to the stars and back
gaining knowledge that they lack.
Opening door yet unknown to man
finding things untouchable by hand,
but what will happen to the human race
when someone wins the race for space.
Astronauts fly into outer space
helping these men caught within this race
to find the difficult answer
of how to conquer
the unknown out there
far aloft from our atmosphere,
and what will happen to the human race
when someone wins the race for space.
Through the decades, men have pondered
what ship could be propelled
to visit plants and stars
like Jupiter and mars,
and break from earth’s gravity
from which we’re held,
but what will happen to the human race
when someone wins the race for space.
Date Written Unknown
poem by David Harris
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In Sickness
Jesus, since I with thee am one,
Confirm my soul in thee,
And still continue to tread down
The man of sin in me.
Let not the subtle foe prevail
In this my feeble hour,
Frustrate all the hopes of hell
Redeem from Satan's pow'r.
Arm me, O Lord, from head to foot,
With righteousness divine;
My soul in Jesus firmly root,
And seal the Saviour mine.
Proportion'd to my pains below,
O let my joys increase,
And mercy to my spirit flow
In healing streams of peace.
In life and death be thou my God,
And I am more than safe:
Chastis'd by thy paternal rod,
Support me with thy staff.
Lay on me, Saviour, what thou wilt,
But give me strength to bear:
Thy gracious hand this cross hath dealt,
Which cannot be severe.
As gold refin'd may I come out,
In sorrow's furnace try'd;
Preserved from faithfulness and doubt,
And fully putify'd.
When, overwhelm'd with sore distress,
Out of the pit I cry,
On Jesus suffering in my place
Help me to fix mine eye.
When marr'd with tears, and blood, and sweat,
The glorious sufferer lay,
And in my stead sustain'd the heat
And burden of the day.
The pangs which my weak nature knows
Are swallow'd up in thine:
How numberless thy pondrous woes!
How few, how light are mine!
O might I learn of thee to bear
Temptation, pain and loss!
Give me a heart inur'd to prayer,
And fitted to the cross.
Make me, O Lord, thy patient son;
Thy language mine shall be:
"Father, thy gracious will be done,
I take the cup from thee."
While thus my soul is fixt on him
Once fasten'd to the wood,
Safe shall I pass through Jordan's stream,
And reach the realms of God.
And when my soul mounts up to keep
With thee the marriage feast,
I shall not die, but fall asleep
On my Redeemer's breast.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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Eucharist
the last and perfect celebration of mankind
center in the breaking of bread; bless and thank
by Christ in the eve of his death
it is the ultimate and the final vow of self giving
of what the wisdom of salvation mean to man,
the gift of servitude is just a beginning to the
Calvary of life
the death that He freely accepted from the
Father's hand, a sacrifice of what meant to
share what you have in life, a will being of every
things of He who is bound to give of what all that
has given
a mighty of self-giving, a sacrificial lamb comes to
reveal thy heaven's home, a receptacle of all sin
whose blood will hold on the angry God, pacify by
His own blood and nail in the most brutal death in
human race
what wonder that He gives, when life flows in the
wounded chest, flows as it goes in the soil where
it rest, even the heaven's dark clouds witness the
lamb that give, wondered by million of angels
in the paradise it cease
the cross comes to gives us the true God, whose
father sudden the only begotten Son of God, it was
the moment that last through out eternity
Christ come in witness to the Father's love, a
love that beyond death, He lives with him for thy
Father everlasting love transcends beyond death,
through his death
as the Eucharist passion our hearts, the unity of the
Holy Spirit guide us to thy everlasting soul, it is by
taking Christ in the Eucharist He lives in us, leave
nothing to believe of what is taken, but live what is to
believe that Christ gives the life that afraid no death
and leads us to the Father in heaven
let our soul be lifted high to the most heavenly Father
and brings us to life Everlasting
poem by Antonio Liao
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Psalm 89 part 4
v.19ff
C. M.
Christ's mediatorial kingdom; or, His Divine and human nature
Hear what the Lord in vision said,
And made his mercy known:
"Sinners, behold your help is laid
On my Almighty Son.
"Behold the Man my wisdom chose
Among your mortal race:
His head my holy oil o'erflows,
The Spirit of my grace.
"High shall he reign on David's throne,
My people's better King;
My arm shall beat his rivals down,
And still new subjects bring.
"My truth shall guard him in his way,
With mercy by his side,
While in my name through earth and sea
He shall in triumph ride.
"Me for his Father and his God
He shall for ever own,
Call me his rock, his high abode,
And I'll support my Son.
"My first-born Son arrayed in grace
At my right hand shall sit;
Beneath him angels know their place,
And monarchs at his feet.
"My cov'nant stands for ever fast,
My promises are strong;
Firm as the heav'ns his throne shall last,
His seed endure as long."
poem by Isaac Watts
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On The Death Of Rev. Mr. George Whitefield
HAIL, happy saint, on thine immortal throne,
Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown;
We hear no more the music of thy tongue,
Thy wonted auditories cease to throng.
Thy sermons in unequall'd accents flow'd,
And ev'ry bosom with devotion glow'd;
Thou didst in strains of eloquence refin'd
Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind.
Unhappy we the setting sun deplore,
So glorious once, but ah! it shines no more.
Behold the prophet in his tow'ring flight!
He leaves the earth for heav'n's unmeasur'd height,
And worlds unknown receive him from our sight.
There Whitefield wings with rapid course his way,
And sails to Zion through vast seas of day.
Thy pray'rs, great saint, and thine incessant cries
Have pierc'd the bosom of thy native skies.
Thou moon hast seen, and all the stars of light,
How he has wrestled with his God by night.
He pray'd that grace in ev'ry heart might dwell,
He long'd to see America excell;
He charg'd its youth that ev'ry grace divine
Should with full lustre in their conduct shine;
That Saviour, which his soul did first receive,
The greatest gift that ev'n a God can give,
He freely offer'd to the num'rous throng,
That on his lips with list'ning pleasure hung.
"Take him, ye wretched, for your only good,
"Take him ye starving sinners, for your food;
"Ye thirsty, come to this life-giving stream,
"Ye preachers, take him for your joyful theme;
"Take him my dear Americans, he said,
"Be your complaints on his kind bosom laid:
"Take him, ye Africans, he longs for you,
"Impartial Saviour is his title due:
"Wash'd in the fountain of redeeming blood,
"You shall be sons, and kings, and priests to God."
Great Countess,* we Americans revere
Thy name, and mingle in thy grief sincere;
New England deeply feels, the Orphans mourn,
Their more than father will no more return.
But, though arrested by the hand of death,
Whitefield no more exerts his lab'ring breath,
Yet let us view him in th' eternal skies,
Let ev'ry heart to this bright vision rise;
While the tomb safe retains its sacred trust,
Till life divine re-animates his dust.
*The Countess of Huntingdon, to whom Mr. Whitefield was
Chaplain.
poem by Phillis Wheatley
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In This Short Span..
I couldn't gather much from
This wonderful world!
As I came near to it,
It stepped back and furled.
So tiny I'm under the vastness
Of Nature and God's every craft!
I thought and knelt down,
To utter my prayer rapt.
I wanted to be one with
His colossal immense power.
I begged for his pure touch,
And blessings to shower.
'Mercy is the first virtue,
Which purifies a human mind.
You must be then near to me,
Shed your ego and be kind.
In this short span of life,
Nothing sticks to its place.
Time squeezes secs from us,
And we lag behind in race.
The milk of human kindness
Should drip in every soul,
Bad or good we can't judge
We have to play our role.
poem by Nilakshi Das
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Hymn 27
Assurance of heaven.
2 Tim. 4:68,18.
[Death may dissolve my body now,
And bear my spirit home;
Why do my minutes move so slow,
Nor my salvation come?
With heav'nly weapons I have fought
The battles of the Lord;
Finished my course, and kept the faith,
And wait the sure reward.]
God has laid up in heav'n for me
A crown which cannot fade;
The righteous Judge at that great day
Shall place it on my head.
Nor hath the King of grace decreed
This prize for me alone;
But all that love and long to see
Th' appearance of his Son.
Jesus the Lord shall guard me safe
From every ill design;
And to his heav'nly kingdom keep
This feeble soul of mine.
God is my everlasting aid,
And hell shall rage in vain;
To him be highest glory paid
And endless praise--Amen.
poem by Isaac Watts
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In Memory of a Happy Day in February
Blessed be Thou for all the joy
My soul has felt today!
O let its memory stay with me
And never pass away!
I was alone, for those I loved
Were far away from me,
The sun shone on the withered grass,
The wind blew fresh and free.
Was it the smile of early spring
That made my bosom glow?
'Twas sweet, but neither sun nor wind
Could raise my spirit so.
Was it some feeling of delight,
All vague and undefined?
No, 'twas a rapture deep and strong,
Expanding in the mind!
Was it a sanguine view of life
And all its transient bliss
A hope of bright prosperity?
O no, it was not this!
It was a glimpse of truth divine
Unto my spirit given
Illumined by a ray of light
That shone direct from heaven!
I felt there was a God on high
By whom all things were made.
I saw His wisdom and his power
In all his works displayed.
But most throughout the moral world
I saw his glory shine;
I saw His wisdom infinite,
His mercy all divine.
Deep secrets of his providence
In darkness long concealed
Were brought to my delighted eyes
And graciously revealed.
But while I wondered and adored
His wisdom so divine,
I did not tremble at his power,
I felt that God was mine.
I knew that my Redeemer lived,
I did not fear to die;
Full sure that I should rise again
To immortality.
I longed to view that bliss divine
Which eye hath never seen,
To see the glories of his face
Without the veil between.
poem by Anne Brontë from Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (1846)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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