O come quickly!
NEVER weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore,
Never tired pilgrim's limbs affected slumber more,
Than my wearied sprite now longs to fly out of my troubled breast:
O come quickly, sweetest Lord, and take my soul to rest!
Ever blooming are the joys of heaven's high Paradise,
Cold age deafs not there our ears nor vapour dims our eyes:
Glory there the sun outshines; whose beams the Blessed only see:
O come quickly, glorious Lord, and raise my sprite to Thee!
poem by Thomas Campion
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Related quotes
The Mountain Sprite
In yonder valley there dwelt, alone,
A youth, whose moments had calmly flown,
'Till spells came o'er him, and, day and night,
He was haunted and watch'd by a Mountain Sprite.
As once, by moonlight, he wander'd o'er
The golden sands of that Island shore,
A foot-print sparkled before his sight --
'Twas the fairy foot of the Mountain Sprite!
Beside a fountain, one sunny day,
As bending over the stream he lay,
There peep'd down o'er him two eyes of light,
And he saw in that mirror the Mountain Sprite.
He turn'd, but, lo, like a startled bird,
That spirit fled! -- and the youth but heard
Sweet music, such as marks the flight
Of some bird of song, from the Mountain Sprite.
One night, still haunted by that bright look,
The boy, bewilder'd, his pencil took.
And, guided only by memory's light,
Drew the once-seen form of the Mountain Sprite.
"Oh thou, who lovest the shadow," cried
A voice, low whispering by his side,
"Now turn and see," -- here the youth's delight
Seal'd the rosy lips of the Mountain Sprite.
"Of all the Spirits of land and sea,"
Then rapt he murmur'd, "there's none like thee,
And oft, oh oft, may thy foot thus light
In this lonely bower, sweet Mountain Sprite!"
poem by Thomas Moore
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Psalm 13
Oh Lord have you forgotton me
How long will you hide your face
My heart is sorrowful every day
Oh how I miss your embrace
My fears are dark and my sleep is death
Shall I never hear thy voice again
My soul longs to walk with thee
To hear once more the glorious refrain
But I have trusted oh Lord in your mercy
For you are the glorious one
I shall rejoice in salvation and sing to the Lord
And sing of God's Holy Son
poem by Frank McEleny
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Today... 'Glory
Images or idols can never replace
our great God of wondrous Glory and Grace.
How can we forget the Lord of Heaven
Who suffered that we might be forgiven?
Come, join now with me in singing His praise
and let us our heavenly anthem raise
with the harmony of worship and of love
to our Glorious Lord Who reigns above.
Glory and all Glory everlasting be
To Christ Jesus Who gave His life for me.
I sing praise to my Lord of Glory
as I tell salvations wondrous story.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Elegy XIX: To His Mistress Going to Bed
Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times, having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing, though they never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glistering
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breast-plate, which you wear
That th'eyes of busy fools may be stopped there:
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you that now 'tis your bed time.
Off with that happy busk, whom I envy
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown's going off such beauteous state reveals
As when from flowery meads th'hills shadow steals.
Off with your wiry coronet and show
The hairy diadem which on you doth grow.
Off with those shoes: and then safely tread
In this love's hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Received by men; thou Angel bring'st with thee
A heaven like Mahomet's Paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these Angels from an evil sprite:
They set out hairs, but these the flesh upright.
License my roving hands, and let them go
Behind before, above, between, below.
Oh my America, my new found land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my Empery,
How blessed am I in this discovering thee.
To enter in these bonds is to be free,
Then where my hand is set my seal shall be.
Full nakedness, all joys are due to thee.
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are as Atlanta's balls, cast in men's views,
That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem
His earthly soul may covet theirs not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus arrayed;
Themselves are mystic books, which only we
Whom their imputed grace will dignify
Must see revealed. Then since I may know,
As liberally as to a midwife show
Thyself; cast all, yea this white linen hence.
Here is no penance, much less innocence.
To teach thee, I am naked first: why then
What need'st thou have more covering than a man.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Psalm 19: Coeli Enarrant
The heavenly frame sets forth the fame
Of him that only thunders;
The firmament, so strangely bent,
Shows his handworking wonders.
Day unto day doth it display,
Their course doth it acknowledge,
And night to night succeeding right
In darkness teach clear knowledge.
There is no speech, no language which
Is so of skill bereaved,
But of the skies the teaching cries
They have heard and conceived.
There be no eyen but read the line
From so fair book proceeding,
Their words be set in letters great
For everybody's reading.
Is not he blind that doth not find
The tabernacle builded
There by His Grace for sun's fair face
In beams of beauty gilded?
Who forth doth come, like a bridegroom,
From out his veiling places,
As glad is he, as giants be
To run their mighty races.
His race is even from ends of heaven;
About that vault he goeth;
There be no realms hid from his beams;
His heat to all he throweth.
O law of His, how perfect 'tis
The very soul amending;
God's witness sure for aye doth dure
To simplest wisdom lending.
God's dooms be right, and cheer the sprite,
All His commandments being
So purely wise it gives the eyes
Both light and force of seeing.
Of Him the fear doth cleanness bear
And so endures forever,
His judgments be self verity,
They are unrighteous never.
Then what man would so soon seek gold
Or glittering golden money?
By them is past in sweetest taste,
Honey or comb of honey.
By them is made Thy servants' trade
Most circumspectly guarded,
And who doth frame to keep the same
Shall fully be rewarded.
Who is the man that ever can
His faults know and acknowledge?
O Lord, cleanse me from faults that be
Most secret from all knowledge.
Thy servant keep, lest in him creep
Presumtuous sins' offenses;
Let them not have me for their slave
Nor reign upon my senses.
So shall my sprite be still upright
In thought and conversation,
So shall I bide well purified
From much abomination.
So let words sprung from my weak tongue
And my heart's meditation,
My saving might, Lord, in Thy sight,
Receive good acceptation!
poem by Philip Sidney
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Psalm 42
As the deer pants for the water
So my soul longs after thee
My heart wanders through this desert
And there is no joy in me
I remember the days of your presence
How your Spirit burned in me
Shall I forever wander in this desert?
O Lord shall I ever be free?
Night and day I continually weep
My tears have almost ran dry
My starving soul continues to seek
For the glorious one who reigns on high
Where is the voice of joy and praise
For I surely remember all the days
When we came and sought and found Him there
Yet now I'm lost and He is no-where
I will remember the Lord my King
And I will lift my voice and sing
Of all His glories and His deeds
So now my Lord my soul it pleads
My downcast soul cries out to deep
A song awakes me from my sleep
Angel choirs they fill the night
My eyes are dried I have my sight
Now that I can clearly see
I hear my God say 'trust in me.'
And up from the dead my soul shall rise
To the Lord my King who heard my cries
poem by Frank McEleny
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Sly Dick
Sharp was the frost, the wind was high
And sparkling stars bedeckt the sky
Sly Dick in arts of cunning skill'd,
Whose rapine all his pockets fill'd,
Had laid him down to take his rest
And soothe with sleep his anxious breast.
'Twas thus a dark infernal sprite
A native of the blackest night,
Portending mischief to devise
Upon Sly Dick he cast his eyes;
Then straight descends the infernal sprite,
And in his chamber does alight;
In visions he before him stands,
And his attention he commands.
Thus spake the sprite-- hearken my friend,
And to my counsels now attend.
Within the garret's spacious dome
There lies a well stor'd wealthy room,
Well stor'd with cloth and stockings too,
Which I suppose will do for you,
First from the cloth take thou a purse,
For thee it will not be the worse,
A noble purse rewards thy pains,
A purse to hold thy filching gains;
Then for the stockings let them reeve
And not a scrap behind thee leave,
Five bundles for a penny sell
And pence to thee will come pell mell;
See it be done with speed and care
Thus spake the sprite and sunk in air.
When in the morn with thoughts erect
Sly Dick did on his dreams reflect,
Why faith, thinks he, 'tis something too,
It might-- perhaps-- it might be true,
I'll go and see-- away he hies,
And to the garret quick he flies,
Enters the room, cuts up the clothes
And after that reeves up the hose;
Then of the cloth he purses made,
Purses to hold his filching trade.
poem by Thomas Chatterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.
quote by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Today... 'Glorious Lord
Glorious and majestic is the Lord
Mighty God by Heaven and Earth adored.
Enthroned in Glory and bright light is He
exalted on high for all men to see.
In heaven beholding the wondrous sight
all will tell of His Majesty and Might.
For the Lord Jehovah in His Glory
writes each page of salvations story.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Glory
Great is the Lord,God Almighty
Great is the Lordon high
the train of His robe fills the temple
and we cry out highest praise
Glory to the risen King
Glory to the son
Glorious son
lift up your heads open the doors
let the King of glory come in
and forever be our God
Holy is the Lord,God Almighty
Hloy is the Lord on High
let all the earth bow before You
and crown You Lord of all
song performed by by Hillsong
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let us sing Glory (Song)
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God created the heaven and earth
Lord came for us from heaven to earth
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God created the sea and sky
Lord controlled the sea and wind
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God had given us fruits and plants
Lord given himself as bread and wine
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God created stars
Stars shown the way to Jesus
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
God given the life on the earth
Lord raised the life from the dead
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
Praise the God for all his greatness
Praise the Lord for all his help
Let us sing glory to the God
Let us sing glory to the Lord
-o-
poem by Bhavani Polimetla
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Psalm 130
Out of the depths of my soul I have cried
Will you hear me O Lord is my plea?
Will you come to me quickly in my distress?
Will you come Lord and set me free?
The weight of my sins would crush me O Lord
And without you no one could stand
Your forgiveness and mercy have set me free
And salvation it comes by your hand
The mercy of God is abundant indeed
And hope is held tight in the night
And my hungry soul in the famine you'll feed
And the dawn shall be a glorious sight
poem by Frank McEleny
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Psalm 06
Aug. 13. 1653.
Lord in thine anger do not reprehend me
Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct;
Pity me Lord for I am much deject
Am very weak and faint; heal and amend me,
For all my bones, that even with anguish ake,
Are troubled, yea my soul is troubled sore
And thou O Lord how long? turn Lord, restore
My soul, O save me for thy goodness sake
For in death no remembrance is of thee;
Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise?
Wearied I am with sighing out my dayes.
Nightly my Couch I make a kind of Sea;
My Bed I water with my tears; mine Eie
Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark
Ith' mid'st of all mine enemies that mark.
Depart all ye that work iniquitie.
Depart from me, for the voice of my weeping
The Lord hath heard, the Lord hath heard my prai'r
My supplication with acceptance fair
The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping.
Mine enemies shall all be blank and dash't
With much confusion; then grow red with shame,
They shall return in hast the way they came
And in a moment shall be quite abash't.
poem by John Milton
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My Oak Tree
My taste for love is what I long,
The secret so full and free
My heart of love beats every day
Because of this Oak Tree
The beauty of its leaves, we seldom admire
Oh Creator Lord to thee
How foolish our paths would have been
If it wasn’t for this Oak Tree
How quickly this seed germinated
Our eyes could hardly see
I treasured every moment
Beneath this Oak Tree
As little children we play and hide
How sweet are those memories to me?
The games we played, the jokes we shared
Beneath this Oak Tree
I would never forget this Oak Tree dear
For she is very dear to me
It matters not how grey I get
For my Mother is that Oak Tree
I watched this tree as the leaves got dry
The limbs begin to break
I fell to my knees, and begged the Lord
“Please don’t you this Oak Tree take”
Lord, if this tree should bend its head
I dread that day to see
May time give way to that glorious day
When we meet in eternity.
poem by Troy Brown
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To His Mistress Going to Bed
Come, Madam, come, all rest my powers defy,
Until I labour, I in labour lie.
The foe oft-times having the foe in sight,
Is tired with standing though they never fight.
Off with that girdle, like heaven's zone glistering,
But a far fairer world encompassing.
Unpin that spangled breastplate which you wear,
That th' eyes of busy fools may be stopped there.
Unlace yourself, for that harmonious chime
Tells me from you, that now 'tis your bed time.
Off with that happy busk, which I envy,
That still can be, and still can stand so nigh.
Your gown going off, such beauteous state reveals,
As when from flowery meads th' hill's shadow steals.
Off with that wiry coronet and show
The hairy diadem which on you doth grow;
Now off with those shoes, and then safely tread
In this love's hallowed temple, this soft bed.
In such white robes heaven's angels used to be
Received by men; thou angel bring'st with thee
A heaven like Mahomet's paradise; and though
Ill spirits walk in white, we easily know
By this these angels from an evil sprite,
Those set our hairs, but these our flesh upright.
License my roving hands, and let them go
Before, behind, between, above, below.
O my America, my new found land,
My kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned,
My mine of precious stones, my empery,
How blessed am I in this discovering thee!
To enter in these bonds, is to be free;
Then where my hand is set, my seal shall be.
Full nakedness, all joys are due to thee
As souls unbodied, bodies unclothed must be,
To taste whole joys. Gems which you women use
Are like Atlanta's balls, cast in men's views,
That when a fool's eye lighteth on a gem,
His earthly soul may covet theirs, not them.
Like pictures, or like books' gay coverings made
For laymen, are all women thus arrayed;
Themselves are mystic books, which only we
Whom their imputed grace will dignify
Must see revealed. Then since I may know,
As liberally, as to a midwife, show
Thyself: cast all, yea, this white linen hence,
Here is no penance, much less innocence.
To teach thee, I am naked first, why then
What needst thou have more covering than a man.
poem by John Donne
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lord, I Am Tired
Lord, I am tired.
'Since you are tired, My son,
Even before
Your journey's start,
I shall run for you.'
Lord, I am tired.
'Since you are tired, My son,
Even before
Your journey's start,
I shall sail your dream-boat
And reach for you
Your golden Reality-shore.'
[Excerpt from 'The Goal is Won']
poem by Sri Chinmoy Ghose
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Te Deum
Thee, Sovereign God, our grateful accents praise;
We own thee Lord, and bless thy wondrous ways;
To thee, Eternal Father, earth's whole frame
With loudest trumpets sounds immortal fame.
Lord God of Hosts! for thee the heavenly powers,
With sounding anthems, fill the vaulted towers.
Thy Cherubims thee Holy, Holy, Holy, cry;
Thrice Holy, all the Seraphims reply,
And thrice returning echoes endless songs supply.
Both heaven and earth thy majesty display;
They owe their beauty to thy glorious ray.
Thy praises fill the loud apostles' quire:
The train of prophets in the song conspire.
Legions of martyrs in the chorus shine,
And vocal blood with vocal music join.[24]
By these thy church, inspired by heavenly art,
Around the world maintains a second part,
And tunes her sweetest notes, O God, to thee,
The Father of unbounded majesty;
The Son, adored co-partner of thy seat,
And equal everlasting Paraclete.
Thou King of Glory, Christ, of the Most High,
Thou co-eternal filial Deity;
Thou who, to save the world's impending doom,
Vouchsafst to dwell within a virgin's womb;
Old tyrant Death disarmed, before thee flew
The bolts of heaven, and back the foldings drew,
To give access, and make thy faithful way;
From God's right hand thy filial beams display.
Thou art to judge the living and the dead;
Then spare those souls for whom thy veins have bled.
O take us up amongst thy bless'd above,
To share with them thy everlasting love.
Preserve, O Lord! thy people, and enhance
Thy blessing on thine own inheritance.
For ever raise their hearts, and rule their ways,
Each day we bless thee, and proclaim thy praise;
No age shall fail to celebrate thy name,
No hour neglect thy everlasting fame.
Preserve our souls, O Lord, this day from ill;
Have mercy on us, Lord, have mercy still:
As we have hoped, do thou reward our pain;
We've hoped in thee--let not our hope be vain.
poem by John Dryden
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Lovers Prayer
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
I dont want no jive artists calling me on the telephone
Dont wanna watch the carson show all alone
I just wanna lay back, take my rest
With the one I loves head resting on my chest
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
And I dont want my best friends even coming round
cos if they do I might put em down
Carsons over and the lights way down low
And all I got, I got a heart full of soul
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
I said, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
I said, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
And its a lovers prayer, oh yes it is
Takes a little time, takes a little care, yeah, yeah, yeah
And when it gets way on in the midnight hour
I just wanna play my guitar
I just wanna see you smile, touch your face
Be with you in my own place
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
I said, lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Lord, lord, lord, lord, lord
Just wanna be with my love tonight
Just wanna be with my love tonight
Just wanna be with my love tonight
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mary’s Day (Feast of BVM assumed into heaven)
The mother of Jesus –Mary,
The anguished heart at Calvary;
The figurine with the rosary,
Is live at God’s own sanctuary!
‘Hail Mary, full of grace is live,
In body, soul assumed by God! ’
Like Christ, death could not her deprive
Of victory, glory, like her Lord.
The Immaculate Conception had
Become the handmaid of the Lord;
And in her sacred womb, the Word
Dwelt, receiving flesh, and was clad.
In Mary, heaven and earth had met:
The glorious Son Of God was born;
Her obeisance to God had set
Satan’s defeat, and newer dawn.
The lady clad in sun as gown,
And stars upon her head as crown,
And moon beneath her feet to stand,
Reached heaven with angelic band.
God raised the sinless virgin bride
To be Queen of Heaven, beside
The Lamb of God, who lives and reigns
In endless glory that ne’er wanes.
All angels, saints pay homage then,
To Mary Blessed, Queen of Heaven;
All righteous souls, She longs to see –
Humanity in Eternity.
Dedicated to the BVM on her ‘Feast of Assumption’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 15-08-2010
poem by John Celes
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The Lord Has A Will
I need you lord; in all I do.
Youre always there to see me through.
I cant get by unless I lean on you, lord.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
Your love, lord, is in my heart.
You wrote it there; it wont depart.
It lights my way and keeps me out of the dark.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
I thank you, lord, your word is sown
Into my life, and there its grown;
Its roots go deep where living waters are known.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
The lord has a will,
And I have a need
To follow that will,
To humbly be still,
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
To rest in it,
Nest in it,
Fully be blessed in it,
Following my fathers will.
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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