Jonah
Thus sung the king—some angel reach a bough
From Eden's tree to crown the wisest brow;
And now thou fairest garden ever made,
Broad banks of spices, blossom'd walks of shade,
O Lebanon! where much I love to dwell,
Since I must leave thee Lebanon, farewel!
Swift from my soul the fair Idea flies,
A wilder sight the changing scene supplies,
Wide seas come rolling to my future page,
And storms stand ready when I call, to rage.
Then go where Joppa crowns the winding shore,
The prophet Jonah just arrives before,
He sees a ship unmooring, soft the gales,
He pays, and enters, and the vessel sails.
Ah wou'dst thou fly thy God? rash man forbear,
What land so distant but thy God is there?
Weak reason, cease thy voice.—They run the deep,
And the tir'd prophet lays his limbs to sleep.
Here God speaks louder, sends a storm to sea,
The clouds remove to give the vengeance way;
Strong blasts come whistling, by degrees they roar
And shove big surges tumbling on to shore;
The vessel bounds, then rolls, and ev'ry blast
Works hard to tear her by the groaning mast;
The sailors doubling all their shouts and cares
Furl the white canvas, and cast forth the wares,
Each seek the God their native regions own,
In vain they seek them, for those Gods were none.
Yet Jonah slept the while, who solely knew,
In all that number, where to find the true.
To whom the pilot: sleeper, rise and pray,
Our Gods are deaf; may thine do more than they.
But thus the rest: perhaps we waft a foe
To heav'n itself, and that's our cause of woe;
Let's seek by lots, if heav'n be pleas'd to tell;
And what they sought by lots, on Jonah fell:
Then whence he came, and who, and what, and why
Thus rag'd the tempest, all confus'dly cry,
Each press'd in haste to get his question heard,
When Jonah stops them with a grave regard.
An Hebrew man you see, who God revere,
He made this world, and makes this world his care,
His the whirl'd sky, these waves that lift their head,
And his yon land, on which you long to tread.
He charg'd me late, to Nineveh repair,
And to their face denounce his sentence there:
Go, said the vision, prophet, preach to all,
Yet forty days and Nineveh shall fall.
But well I knew him gracious to forgive,
And much my zeal abhor'd the bad shou'd live,
And if they turn they live; then what were I
But some false prophet when they fail to die?
Or what I fanci'd had the Gentiles too
With Hebrew prophets, and their God to do?
Drawn by the wilful thoughts, my soil I run,
I fled his presence and the work's undone.
The storm increases as the prophet speaks,
O'er the toss'd ship a foaming billow breaks,
She rises pendant on the lifted waves
And thence descries a thousand watry graves,
Then downward rushing, watry mountains hide
Her hulk beneath in deaths on ev'ry side.
O, cry the sailors all, thy fact was ill,
Yet, if a prophet, speak thy master's will,
What part is ours with thee? can ought remain
To bring the blessings of a calm again?
Then Jonah—mine's the death will best atone
(And God is pleas'd that I pronounce my own)
Arise and cast me forth, the wind will cease,
The sea subsiding wear the looks of peace,
And you securely steer. For well I see
Myself the criminal, the storm for me.
Yet pity moves for one that owns a blame,
And awe resulting from a prophet's name;
Love pleads, he kindly meant for them to die,
Fear pleads against him, lest they pow'r defy:
If then to aid the flight abets the sin,
They think to land him, where they took him in.
Perhaps to quit the cause might end the woe,
And God appeasing, let the vessel go.
For this they fix their oars and strike the main,
But God withstands them, and they strike in vain.
The storm increases more with want of light,
Low black'ning clouds involve the ship in night,
Thick batt'ring rains fly thro' the driving skies,
Loud thunder bellows, darted light'ning flies,
A dreadful picture night-born horrour drew,
And his, or theirs, or both their fates, they view.
Then thus to God they cry; Almighty pow'r,
Whom we ne'er knew 'till this despairing hour,
From this devoted blood thy servants free,
To us he's innocent, if so to thee;
In all the past we see thy wond'rous hand,
And that he perish, think it thy command.
This pray'r perform'd, they cast the prophet o'er,
A surge receives him and he mounts no more;
Then stills the thunder, cease the flames of blue,
The rains abated and the winds withdrew,
The clouds ride off, and as they march away,
Thro' ev'ry breaking shoots a chearful day;
The sea, which rag'd so loud, accepts the prize,
A while it rolls, then all the tempest dies,
By gradual sinking, flat the surface grows,
And safe the vessel with the sailors goes.
The Lion thus, that bounds the fences o'er,
And makes the Mountain-Ecchoes learn to roar,
If on the lawn a branching deer he rend,
Then falls his hunger, all his roarings end,
Murm'ring a while, to rest his limbs he lays,
And the freed lawn enjoys its herd at ease.
Bless'd with the sudden calm, the sailors own
That wretched Jonah worship'd right alone,
Then make their vows, the victim sheep prepare,
Bemoan the prophet, and the God revere.
Now tho' you fear to loose the pow'r to breath,
Now tho' you tremble, Fancy, dive beneath;
What world of wonders in the deep are seen;
But this the greatest—Jonah lives within!
The man who fondly fled the Maker's view,
Strange as the crime has found a dungeon too.
God sent a monster of the frothing sea,
Fit by the bulk to gorge the living prey,
And lodge him still alive; this hulk receives
The falling prophet as he dash'd the waves.
There newly wak'd, from fanci'd death he lies,
And oft again in apprehension dies:
While three long days and nights depriv'd of sleep,
He turn'd and toss'd him up and down the deep.
He thinks the judgment of the strangest kind,
And much he wonders what the Lord design'd;
Yet since he lives, the gift of life he weighs,
That's time for pray'r, and thus a ground for praise;
From the dark entrails of the whale to thee,
(This new contrivance of a hell to me)
To thee my God I cry'd, my full distress
Pierc'd thy kind ear, and brought my soul redress.
Cast to the deep I fell, by thy command,
Cast in the midst beyond the reach of land;
Then to the midst brought down, the seas abide
Beneath my feet, the seas on ev'ry side;
In storms the billow, and in calms the wave,
Are moving cov'rings to my wand'ring grave;
Forc'd by despair I cry'd; how to my cost
I fled thy presence, Oh for ever lost!
But hope revives my soul, and makes me say,
Yet tow'rds thy temple shall I turn and pray,
Or if I know not here, where Salem lies,
Thy temple's heav'n, and faith has inward eyes.
Alas the waters which my whale surround,
Have thro' my sorr'wing soul a passage found;
And now the dungeon moves, new depths I try,
New thoughts of danger all his paths supply.
The last of Deeps affords the last of dread,
And wraps its funeral weeds around my head:
Now o'er the sand his rollings seem to go
Where the big mountains root their base below;
And now to rocks and clefts their course they take,
Earth's endless bars, too strong for me to break;
Yet from th' Abyss, my God! thy grace divine
Hath call'd him upward, and my life is mine.
Still as I toss'd, I scarce retain'd my breath,
My soul was sick within, and faint to death.
'Twas then I thought of thee, for pity pray'd,
And to thy temple flew the pray'rs I made.
The men whom lying vanity insnares
Forsake thy mercy, that which might be theirs.
But I will pay—my God! my King! receive
The solemn vows my full affection give,
When in thy temple, for a psalm, I sing
Salvation only from my God my king.
Thus ends the prophet, first from Canaan sent,
To let the Gentiles know they must repent:
God hears, and speaks; the Whale at God's command,
Heaves to the light, and casts him forth to land.
With long fatigue, with unexpected ease,
Oppress'd a while, he lies aside the seas,
His eyes tho' glad, in strange astonish'd way
Stare at the golden front of chearful day;
Then slowly rais'd he sees the wonder plain,
And what he pray'd, he wrote to sing again.
The song recorded brings his vow to mind,
He must be thankful, for the Lord was kind;
Strait to the work he shun'd, he flies in haste,
(That seems his vow, or seems a part at least,)
Preaching he comes, and thus denounc'd to all,
Yet forty days and Nineveh shall fall,
Fear seiz'd the Gentiles, Nineveh believes,
All fast with Penitence, and God forgives.
Nor yet of use the prophet's suff'ring fails,
Hell's deep black bosom more than shews the Whales,
But some resemblance brings a type to view,
The place was dark, the time proportion'd too.
A race, the Saviour cries, a sinful race,
Tempts for a sign, the pow'rs of Heav'nly grace,
And let them take the sign, as Jonah lay,
Three days and nights within the fish of prey;
So shall the Son of Man descend below,
Earth's op'ning Entrails shall retain him so.
My soul now seek the song, and find me there,
What Heav'n has shewn thee to repel despair;
See where from Hell she breaks the crumbling ground,
Her hairs stand upright, and they stare around;
Her horrid front, deep-trenching wrinkles trace,
Lean sharp'ning looks deform her livid face;
Bent lie the brows, and at the bend below,
With fire and blood, two wand'ring eye-balls glow;
Fill'd are her arms with num'rous aids to kill,
And God she fancies but the judge of ill;
Oh fair-ey'd Hope! thou see'st the passion nigh,
Daughter of Promise, Oh forbear to fly!
Assurance holds thee, fear would have thee go,
Close thy blue wings and stand thy deadly foe;
The judge of ill is still the Lord of grace,
As such behold him in the Prophet's case;
Cast to be drown'd, devour'd within the sea,
Sunk to the deep, and yet restor'd to day.
Oh love the Lord my soul, whose present care
So rules the world, he punishes to spare.
If heavy grief my downcast heart oppress,
My body danger, or my state distress,
With low submission in thy temper bow,
Like Jonah pray, like Jonah make thy vow,
With hopes of comfort kiss the chast'ning rod,
And shunning mad despair, repose in God;
Then whatsoe'er the Prophet's vow design,
Repentance, Thanks, and Charity be mine.
poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Jonah
Jonah was God’s special prophet;
One stormy day a whale he met.
He had run far, far, far away,
From where he was to be that day.
He had went on a old tough ship
That was now by big waves whipped
But he was tired as the storm broke
And went and snuggled in his cloak
So down in the old ship he slept
While the others on the ship wept
Captain came down him to awake
Call on your god for your own sake
They would cast lots to see just why
The gods wanted them all to die
Up on the deck they cast the lot
Who’s fault was it for what they got?
Then on Jonah the lot did fall
And then and there he told them all
He told them why all was not well
He cried Throw me in the sea swell
So up and out they threw him in
And all at once the storm did dim
But in the sea Jonah did swim
And a fish came swallowing him
In a big fish three days and nights
So dark, slimy, and with no light
So deep down in there he did pray
That God would pardon his wrong way
That fish spat him on the dry land
Onto the soft, hot desert sand
To Nineveh he quickly went
To now do just as God had sent
poem by Joses Tirtabudi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bible Stories: Jonah (Part I)
Chapter I:
To Jonah, came the word of God,
The son of Amittai,
“Go to city of Nineveh
And warn them that their wickedness
Has come before the Lord! ”
But Jonah tried to flee from God
And boarded fast a ship;
He paid the fare to reach Tarshish,
To escape from the Lord!
God raised a tempest on the sea
That tried to break the ship;
The mariners got frightened much,
‘Each one cried to his God! ’
They threw the cargo in the sea,
While Jonah lay asleep;
The captain rudely told Jonah,
‘Pray God, we mustn’t perish! ’
They cast lots to detect the one,
Who brought them misfortune;
Poor Jonah turned to be culprit!
They questioned his business.
Then Jonah told them, ’I’m Hebrew,
My God’s the Creator!
He is the God of Heaven, earth,
And made the land and sea.’
When Jonah told he fled the Lord,
The men were seized with fear;
The sea was turning turbulent;
At stake were their lives dear.
So, Jonah told them, ‘Pick me up;
Throw me into the sea;
The storm was on account of me;
Perhaps, it could calm be.
The men rowed hard but saw no land;
The sea grew furious;
They prayed to God to forgive them,
And hurled Jonah in sea!
To their surprise, the sea turned calm;
May be, they did right thing;
They offered sacrifice to God
For, they were struck by fear!
(4-25-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jonah 180 Degrees Of Misdirection
Jonah an Old Testament prophet
from Galilee his fab story takes place
between years 780 B.C to 760 B.C.
Assyria was a powerful evil nation
Israel’s most dreaded enemy foreign.
The Lord spoke unto Jonah told him
go to Nineveh capital of Assyria
preach to warn sinful Ninevites.
Jonah 1: 2.
Jonah by God’s word commanded
told to warn the Ninevites to repent
or suffer judgement for wickedness.
But Jonah disobeys the will of God
Jonah plots swiftly high tales it out
180 degrees in opposite direction
Jonah boy child brought back to life
resurrected by Elijah the prophet
1 Kings 17: 17-24.
Jonah son of Amittai the son of truth
2 Kings 14: 25.
Jonah departed not to Nineveh but
to Tarshish with motives of what?
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Jonah Forced By God Warms Assyrian Nineveh
Jonah an Old Testament prophet
from Galilee his story takes place
between years 780 B.C to 760 B.C.
Assyria was a powerful evil nation
Israel's most dreaded enemy foreign.
The Lord spoke unto Jonah told him
to go to Nineveh capital of Assyria
to preach to warn sinful Ninevites. Jonah 1: 2.
Jonah by God's word commanded
told to warn the Ninevites to repent
or suffer judgement for wickedness.
But Jonah disobeys the will of God
Jonah plots swiftly high tales it out
180 degrees in opposite direction
Jonah boy child brought back to life
resurrected by Elijah the prophet 1 Kings 17: 17-24.
Jonah son of Amittai the son of truth 2 Kings 14: 25.
Jonah departed not to Nineveh but
to Tarshish with motives of what?
Were Jonah's motives fear revenge?
Assyrians had committed terrible
atrocities against the people of Israel
traveling into their midst was terrifying?
Jonah despised hated the Assyrians
desired in his heart for God to punish
Assyria? Jonah knew God's nature.
Jonah knew if repentance he preached
to the Ninevites they would repent?
God would spare them punishment. Jonah 4: 2.
Jonah disobeyed fled toward Tarshish
because he knew God to be gracious
merciful, slow to anger, and abundant
in loving-kindness, regretting calamity.
Jonah knew God would forgive regret
his decision to destroy Nineveh a city
of more than 120,000 men domestic
animals living in spiritual darkness;
not knowing the difference between
their right hand and their left between
good and evil. Jonah by God was forced
to voice God's forty day warning and thus Jonah 3: 1-4.
the king of Nineveh ordered a great fast.
All wore from greatest to the least
sackcloth, none ate nor drank not,
man nor domestic animal; all the men
called to God with strength repented
of bad ways violence of their hands.
God turned back from his burning anger
felt regret spared Nineveh did not perish. Jonah 3: 5-10.
What moral by Jonah's story is taught?
Jonah's story teaches obedience necessary,
without question, to obey the will of God;
taught a willingness of spirit, gratitude,
compassion God's grace patience mercy.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bible Stories: Jonah (Part V)
God chooses persons for missions,
Divine in nature, quite strangely;
The prophet Jonah tried to shirk
Away from warning Nineveh.
God taught Jonah, a lesson great;
A mammoth fish swallowed him whole;
When Jonah asked pardon from God,
His life was spared miraculously.
None dare to disobey the Lord;
God guides us do a perfect job;
We ought to live as per His Word;
No righteous souls can devils rob!
As king to subjects, repented,
God spared the city from His rod;
God’s kindness made Jonah bitter;
The ways of God are just and fair!
Our human minds can’t understand
The love of God and His mercy;
God holds His wrath if sinners change
Their hearts from sins to righteous ways!
God’s redemption’s for Jews, Gentiles;
His infinite mercy’s for all;
If Maker wants, He spares the rod;
To man, His acts look rather odd!
God is ready to forgive all
Of mankind’s sins, grievous or small;
His heart of mercy burns with love
To seek more souls for Heav’n above!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bible Stories: Jonah (Part III)
Chapter 3:
The word of God to Jonah came,
A second time and said,
‘Set out to Nineveh, announce
The message, I give you! ’
So, Jonah went to Nineveh,
As per the Lord’s command;
It was a very large city;
It took him three full days!
And Jonah walked throughout the place,
And told what God bade him,
‘In forty days more, Nineveh
Shall be a destroyed town! ’
When people heard Jonah’s message,
Their faith in God improved;
Both great and small, they wore sack-cloth,
And fasted much and prayed!
The king too sat in ashes, dressed
In sack-cloth and much prayed;
He decreed that none should eat, drink-
No man or any beast!
They called to God in loud a voice,
And vowed to give up sin;
They hoped that God would forgive them,
And let them not perish.
The Lord was pleased by what they did;
He saw their change of heart;
His wrath was put under the lid,
As Jonah did his part!
(4-25-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Today... 'Greater than Jonah
Jonah with Jesus could not remotely compare
for none like my Lord Jesus can be found anywhere.
Jonah in his disobedience ran away,
But Jesus in obedience determined to stay.
Into the depths of the sea Jonah was then sent
but into the depths of hell my Saviour went.
For three days under the sea Jonah had to stay
but Jesus in triumph tore the bars of death away.
Jonah cried out to God and from drowning was spared
But my Lord was forsaken and not a soul cared.
Jonah's message to Nineveh was restricted
but my Lords work saved the world as was predicted.
Jesus my Lord and God is far beyond compare
and His glory with another He will not share.
That is why the people on earth heard Him declare
That One much greater than Jonah was standing there.
(see also the additional information in the Poet's notes box)
Hezekiah
From the bleak Beach and broad expanse of sea,
To lofty Salem, Thought direct thy way;
Mount thy light chariot, move along the plains,
And end thy flight where Hezekiah reigns.
How swiftly thought has pass'd from land to land,
And quite outrun Time's meas'ring glass of sand,
Great Salem's walls appear and I resort
To view the state of Hezekiah's court.
Well may that king a pious verse inspire,
Who cleans'd the temple, who reviv'd the choir,
Pleas'd with the service David fix'd before,
That heav'nly musick might on earth adore.
Deep-rob'd in white, he made the Levites stand
With Cymbals, Harps, and Psaltries in their hand;
He gave the Priests their trumpets, prompt to raise
The tuneful soul, by force of sound to praise.
A skilful master for the song he chose,
The songs were David's these, and Asaph's those.
Then burns their off'ring, all around rejoice,
Each tunes his instrument to join the voice;
The trumpets sounded, and the singers sung,
The People worship'd and the temple rung.
Each while the victim burns presents his heart,
Then the Priest blesses, and the People part.
Hail sacred musick! since you know to draw
The soul to Heav'n, the spirit to the law,
I come to prove thy force, thy warbling string
May tune my soul to write what others sing.
But is this Salem? this the proms'd bliss,
These sighs and groans? what means the realm by this?
What solemn sorrow dwells in ev'ry street?
What fear confounds the downcast looks I meet?
Alas the King! whole nations sink with woe,
When righteous Kings are summon'd hence to go;
The King lies sick, and thus to speak his doom,
The Prophet, grave Isaiah, stalks the room:
Oh Prince thy servant sent from God, believe,
Set all in order for thou can'st not live.
Solemn he said, and sighing left the place,
Deep prints of horror furrow'd ev'ry face,
Within their minds appear eternal glooms,
Black gaping marbles of their monarchs tombs,
A King belov'd deceas'd, his offspring none,
And wars destructive e'er they fix the throne.
Strait to the wall he turn'd with dark despair,
('Twas tow'rds the temple, or for private pray'r,)
And thus to God the pious monarch spoke,
Who burn'd the groves, the brazen serpent broke:
Remember Lord with what a heart for right,
What care for truth, I walk'd within thy sight.
'Twas thus with terror, pray'rs and tears he toss'd,
When the mid-court the grave Isaiah cross'd,
Whom in the cedar columns of the square,
Meets a sweet Angel hung in glitt'ring air.
Seiz'd with a trance he stop'd, before his eye
Clears a rais'd arch of visionary sky,
Where as a minute pass'd, the greater light
Purpling appear'd, and south'd and set in night;
A Moon succeeding leads the starry train,
She glides, and sinks her silver horns again:
A second fanci'd morning drives the shades;
Clos'd by the dark the second ev'ning fades;
The third bright dawn awakes, and strait he sees
The temple rise, the monarch on his knees.
Pleas'd with the scene, his inward thoughts rejoice,
When thus the Guardian angel form'd a voice.
Now tow'rds the captain of my people go,
And, Seer, relate him what thy visions show,
The Lord has heard his words, and seen his tears,
And through fifteen extends his future years.
Here to the room prepar'd with dismal black,
The Prophet turning, brought the comfort back.
Oh monarch hail, he cry'd, thy words are heard,
Thy virtuous actions meet a kind regard,
God gives thee fifteen years, when thrice a day,
Shews the round Sun, within the temple pray.
When thrice the day! surpriz'd the monarch cries,
When thrice the Sun! what pow'r have I to rise!
But if thy comfort's human or divine,
'Tis short to prove it—give thy prince a sign.
Behold, the Prophet cry'd, (and stretch'd his hands)
Against yon lattice where the dial stands,
Now shall the Sun a backward journey go
Through ten drawn lines, or leap to ten below.
'Tis easier posting nature's airy track,
Replies the monarch, let the Sun go back.
Attentive here he gaz'd, the prophet pray'd,
Back went the Sun, and back pursu'd the shade.
Chear'd by the sign, and by the Prophet heal'd,
What sacred thanks his gratitude reveal'd?
As sickly Swallows when a summer ends,
Who miss'd the passage with their flying friends,
Take to a wall, there lean the languid head,
While all who find them think the sleepers dead;
If yet their warmth new days of summer bring,
They wake and joyful flutter up to sing;
So far'd the monarch, sick to death he lay,
His court despair'd, and watch'd the last decay;
At length new favour shines, new life he gains,
And rais'd he sings; 'tis thus the song remains.
I said, my God, when in the loath'd disease
Thy Prophet's words cut off my future days,
Now to the grave with mournful haste I go,
Now death unbars his sable gates below.
How might my years by course of nature last?
But thou pronounc'd it, and the prospect pass'd.
I said, my God, thy servant now no more
Shall in thy Temple's sacred courts adore,
No more on earth with living man converse,
Shrunk in a cold uncomfortable hearse.
My life, like tents which wand'ring shepherds raise,
Proves a short dwelling and removes at ease.
My sins pursue me, see the deadly band,
My God, who sees them, cuts me from the land;
As when a weaver finds his labour sped,
Swift from the beam he parts the fast'ning thread.
With pining sickness all from night to day,
From day to night, he makes my strength decay:
Reck'ning the time, I roll with restless groans,
'Till with a lion's force, he crush my bones,
New-morning dawns, but like the morning past,
'Tis day, 'tis night, and still my sorrows last.
Now screaming like the Crane my words I spoke,
Now like the swallow, chatt'ring quick and broke,
Now like the doleful dove, when on the plains
Her mourning tone affects the list'ning swains.
To heav'n for aid my wearying eyes I throw,
At length they're weary'd quite, and sink with woe.
From death's arrest for some delays I sue,
Thou Lord who judg'd me, thou reprieve me too.
Rapture of joy! what can thy servant say?
He sent his Prophet to prolong my day;
Through my glad Limbs I feel the wonder run,
Thus said the Lord, and this Himself has done.
Soft shall I walk, and well secur'd from fears
Possess the comforts of my future years.
Keep soft my heart, keep humble while they roll,
Nor e'er forget my bitterness of soul.
'Tis by the means thy sacred words supply
That mankind live, but in peculiar I;
A second grant thy mercy pleas'd to give,
And my rais'd spirits doubly seem to live.
Behold the time! when peace adorn'd my reign,
'Twas then I felt my stroke of humbling pain;
Corruption dug her pit, I fear'd to sink,
God lov'd my soul, and snatch'd me from the brink.
He turn'd my follies from his gracious eye,
As men who pass accounts and cast them by.
What mouth has death which can thy praise proclaim?
What tongue the grave to speak thy glorious name?
Or will the senseless dead exult with mirth,
Mov'd to their hope by promises on earth?
The living Lord, the living only praise,
The living only fit to sing thy lays,
These feel thy favours, these thy temple see,
These raise the song, as I this day to thee.
Nor will thy truth the present only reach,
This the good fathers shall their offspring teach,
Report the blessings which adorn my page,
And hand their own with mine from age to age.
So when the Maker heard his creature crave,
So kindly rose his ready Will to save.
Then march we solemn tow'rds the Temple door,
While all our joyful musick sounds before,
There on this day through all my life appear,
When this comes round in each returning year,
There strike the strings, our voices jointly raise,
And let his dwellings hear my songs of praise.
Thus wrote the monarch, and I'll think the lay
Design'd for publick when he went to pray;
I'll think the perfect composition runs,
Perform'd by Heman's or Jeduthun's sons.
Then since the time arrives the Seer foretold,
And the third morning rolls an orb of gold,
With thankful zeal recover'd prince prepare
To lead thy nation to the Dome of pray'r.
My fancy takes her chariot once again,
Moves the rich wheels, and mingles in thy train;
She sees the singers reach Moriah's hill,
The minstrels follow, then the porches fill,
She wakes the num'rous instruments of art,
That each perform its own adapted part,
Seeks airs expressive of thy grateful strains,
And list'ning hears the vary'd tune she feigns.
From a grave pitch, to speak the Monarch's woe,
The notes flow down and deeply sound below,
All long-continuing, while depriv'd of ease
He rolls for tedious nights and heavy days.
Here intermix'd with discord, when the Crane
Screams in the notes through sharper sense of pain;
There run with descant on, and taught to shake
When pangs repeated force the voice to break;
Now like the dove they murmur, 'till in sighs
They fall, and languish with the failing eyes.
Then slowly slack'ning, to surprize the more,
From a dead pause, his exclamations soar,
To meet brisk health the notes ascending fly,
Live with the living, and exult on high.
Yet still distinct in parts the musick plays,
'Till prince and people both are call'd to praise,
Then all uniting strongly strike the string,
Put forth their utmost breath, and loudly sing;
The wide spread chorus fills the sacred ground,
And holy transport scales the clouds with sound.
Or thus, or livelier, if their hand and voice
Join'd the good anthem, might the realm rejoice.
This story known, the learn'd Chaldeans came,
Drawn by the sign observ'd, or mov'd by fame;
These ask the fact for Hezekiah done,
And much they wonder at their God the sun,
That thrice he drove through one extent of day
His gold-shod horses in etherial way:
Then vainly ground their guess on nature's laws,
The soundest knowledge owns a greater cause.
Faith knows the fact transcends, and bids me find
What help for practice here incites the mind;
Strait to the song, the thankful song I move,
May such the voice of ev'ry creature prove,
If ev'ry creature meets its share of woe,
And for kind rescues ev'ry creature owe;
In publick so thy Maker's praise proclaim,
Nor what you beg'd with tears, conceal with shame.
'Tis there the ministry thy name repeat
And tell what mercies were vouchsaf'd of late,
Then joins the church, and begs through all our days
Not only with our lips, but lives to praise.
'Tis there our Sov'reigns for a signal day,
The feast proclaim'd, their signal thanks repay.
O'er the long streets we see the chariots wheel,
And, following, think of Hezekiah still;
In the bless'd Dome we meet the white-rob'd Choir,
In whose sweet notes our ravish'd souls aspire;
Side answ'ring side we hear and bear a part,
All warm'd with language from the grateful heart,
Or raise the song where meeting keys rejoice,
And teach the Base to wed the treble voice;
Arts soft'ning ecchos in the musick sound,
And answ'ring natures from the roof rebound.
Here close my verse, the service asks no more,
Bless thy good God, and give the transport o'er.
poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Habakkuk
Now leave the Porch, to vision now retreat,
Where the next rapture glows with varying heat;
Now change the time, and change the Temple scene,
The following Seer forewarns a future reign.
To some retirement, where the Prophets sons
Indulge their holy flight, my fancy runs,
Some sacred College built for praise and pray'r
And heav'nly dream, she seeks Habakkuk there.
Perhaps 'tis there he moans the nation's sin,
Hears the word come, or feels the fit within,
Or sees the vision fram'd with Angels hands,
And dreads the judgments of revolted lands,
Or holds a converse if the Lord appear,
And, like Elijah, wraps his face for fear.
This deep recess portends an act of weight,
A message lab'ring with the work of fate.
Methinks the Skies have lost their lovely blue,
A storm rides fiery, thick the clouds ensue.
Fall'n to the ground with prostrate face I lye,
Oh! 'twere the same in this to gaze and dye!
But hark the Prophet's voice: my pray'rs complain
Of labour spent, of Preaching urg'd in vain;
And must, my God, thy sorrowing servant still
Quit my lone joys to walk this world of ill?
Where spoiling rages, strife and wrong command,
And the slack'd laws no longer curb the land?
At this a strange and more than human sound
Thus breaks the cloud and daunts the trembling ground.
Behold the Gentiles, wond'ring all behold,
What scarce ye credit tho' the work be told,
For lo the proud Chaldean troops I raise,
To march the breadth and all the region seize,
Fierce as the proling wolves at close of day,
And swift as eagles in pursuit of prey.
As eastern winds to blast the season blow,
For blood and rapine flies the dreadful foe;
Leads the sad captives countless as the sand,
Derides the princes and destroys the land.
Yet these triumphant grown offend me more,
And only thank the Gods they chose before.
Art thou not holiest, here the prophet cries,
Supream, Eternal, of the purest eyes?
And shall those eyes the wicked realms regard,
Their crimes be great yet vict'ry their reward?
Shall these still ravage more and more to reign,
Draw the full net, and cast to fill again?
As watch-men silent sit, I wait to see
How solves my doubt, what speaks the Lord to me.
Then go, the Lord replys, suspend thy fears,
And write the vision for a term of years.
Thy foes will feel their turn when those are past,
Wait tho' it tarry, sure it comes at last.
'Tis for their rapine, lusts and thirst of blood
And all their unprotecting Gods of wood.
The Lord is present on his sacred hill,
Cease thy weak doubts, and let the world be still.
Here terrour leaves me with exalted head,
I breath fine air, and find the vision fled,
The Seer withdrawn, inspir'd, and urg'd to write,
By the warm influence of the sacred sight.
His writing finish'd, Prophet-like array'd,
He brings the burthen on the region laid;
His hands a tablet and a volume bear,
The tablet threatnings, and the volume pray'r,
Both for the temple, where to shun decay,
Enroll'd the works of inspiration lay.
And awful oft he stops, or marches slow,
While the dull'd nation hears him preach their woe.
Arriv'd at length, with grave concern for all,
He fix'd his table on the sacred wall.
'Twas large inscrib'd that those who run might read,
'Habakkuk's burthen by the Lord decreed,
'For Judah's sins, her empire is no more,
'The fierce Chaldeans bath her ralm in gore'.
Next to the priest his volume he resign'd,
'Twas pray'r with praises mix'd to raise the mind,
'Twas facts recounted which their fathers knew,
'Twas pow'r in wonders manifest to view.
'Twas comfort rais'd on love already past,
And hope that former love returns at last.
The priests within the prophecy convey'd,
The singers tunes to join his anthem made.
Here and attend the words. And holy thou
That help'd the prophet, help the Poet now.
O Lord who rules the world, with mortal ear
I've heard thy judgments, and I shake for fear.
O Lord by whom their number'd years we find,
E'en in the midst receive the drooping mind;
E'en in the midst thou canst—then make it known
Thy love, thy will, thy power, to save thine own.
Remember mercy tho' thine anger burn,
And soon to Salem bid thy flock return.
O Lord who gav'st it with an outstretch'd hand,
We well remember how thou gav'st the land.
God came from Teman, southward sprung the flame,
From Paron-mount the one that's Holy came,
A glitt'ring glory made the desart blaze,
High Heav'n was cover'd, earth was fill'd with praise.
Dazzling the brightness, not the sun so bright,
'Twas here the pure substantial Fount of Light
Shot from his hand and side in golden streams,
Came forward effluent horny-pointed beams:
Thus shone his coming, as sublimely fair
As bounded nature has been fram'd to bear,
But all his further marks of grandeur hid,
Nor what he cou'd was known, but what he did.
Dire plagues before him ran at his command,
To waste the nations in the promis'd land.
A scorching flame went forth where'er he trod,
And burning Fevers were the coals of God.
Fix'd on the mount he stood, his meas'ring reed
Marks the rich realms for Jacob's seed decreed:
He looks with anger and the nations fly
From the fierce sparklings of his dreadful eye.
He turns, the mountain shakes its awful brow,
Awful he turns, and hills eternal bow.
How glory there, how terrour here, displays
His great unknown yet everlasting ways.
I see the Sable tents along the strand
Where Cushan wander'd, desolately stand,
And Midian's high pavilions shake with dread,
While the tam'd seas thy rescu'd nation tread.
What burst the path? what made the Lord engage?
Cou'd waters anger? seas incite thy rage?
That thus thine horses force the foaming tide
And all the chariots of salvation ride.
Thy bow was bare for what thy mercy swore,
Those oaths, that promise Israel had before.
The rock that felt thee cleav'd, the rivers flow,
The wond'ring desart lends them beds below.
Thy Might the mountain's heaving shocks confess'd,
High shatter'd Horeb trembled o'er the rest.
Great Jordan pass'd its nether waters by,
Its upper waters rais'd the voice on high,
Safe in the deep we went, the liquid wall
Curling arose, and had no leave to fall.
The sun effulgent and the moon serene,
Stop'd by thy will, their heav'nly course refrain;
The voice was Man's, yet both the voice obey,
'Till wars compleated close the lengthen'd day.
Thy glitt'ring spears, thy ratling darts prevail,
Thy spears of lightning and thy darts of hail.
'Twas thou that march'd against their heathen band,
Rage in thy visage, and thy flail in hand;
'Twas thou that went before to wound their head,
The captain follow'd where the Saviour led;
Torn from their earth they feel the desp'rate wound,
And pow'r unfounded fails for want of ground.
With village-war thy tribes where'er they go
Distress the remnant of the scatter'd foe;
Yet mad they rush'd, as whirling wind descends,
And deem'd for friendless those the Lord befriends.
Thy trampling horse from sea to sea subdue,
The bounding ocean left no more to do.
O when I heard what thou vouchsaf'st to win
With works of wonder, must be lost for sin,
I quak'd thro' fear, the voice forsook my tongue,
Or at my lips with quiv'ring accent hung;
Dry leanness ent'ring to my marrow came,
And ev'ry loos'ning nerve unstrung my frame.
How shall I rest, in what protecting shade,
When the day comes, and hostile troops invade?
Tho' neither blossoms on the Fig appear,
Nor vines with clusters deck the purpling year,
Tho' all our labours olive-trees belie,
Tho' fields the substance of the bread deny,
Tho' flocks are sever'd from the silent Fold,
And the rais'd stalls no lowing cattle hold,
Yet shall my soul be glad, in God rejoice,
Yet to my Saviour will I lift my voice,
Yet to my Saviour still my temper sings,
What David set to instruments of strings:
The Lord's my strength, like Hinds he makes my feet,
Yon mount's my refuge, as I safely fleet,
Or (if the song's apply'd) he makes me still
Expect returning to Moriah's hill.
In all this hymn what daring grandeur shines,
What darting glory rays among the lines,
What mountains, earthquakes, clouds, and smokes are seen,
What ambient fires conceal the Lord within,
What working wonders give the promis'd place
And load the conduct of a stubborn race!
In all the work a lively fancy flows,
O'er all the work sincere affection glows,
While Truth's firm Rein the course of fancy guides
And o'er affection Zeal divine presides.
Borne on the prophet's wings, methinks I fly
Amongst eternal Attributes on high,
And here I touch at love supremely fair,
And now at pow'r, anon at mercy there;
So like a warbling bird my tunes I raise
On those green boughs the Tree of life displays,
Whose twelve fair fruits each month by turns receives
And for the nations healing ope their leaves.
Then be the nations heal'd, for this I sing
Descending softly from the prophet's wing.
Thou world attend, the case of Israel see,
'Twill thus at large refer to God and thee.
If love be shewn thee, turn thine eyes above
And pay the duties relative to love;
If pow'r be shewn, and wonderfully so,
Wonder and thank, adore and bow below.
If pow'r that led thee now no longer lead,
But brow-bent Justice draws the flaming blade,
When love is scorn'd, when sin the sword provokes,
Let tears and pray'rs avert or heal the strokes;
If justice leaves to wound, and thou to groan
Beneath new Lords in countries not thine own,
Know this for Mercy's act, and let your lays
Grateful in all, recount the cause of praise:
Then love returns, and while no sins divide
The firm alliance, pow'r will shield thy side.
See the grand round of providence's care,
See realms assisted here, and punish'd there,
O'er the just circle cast thy wond'ring eyes,
Thank while you gaze, and study to be wise.
poem by Thomas Parnell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Bible Stories: Jonah (Part II)
Chapter 2:
The Lord then sent a mighty fish
That swallowed Jonah whole;
And in its belly dark, he stayed,
For three days and three nights.
And from the belly of the fish,
Jonah prayed to the Lord:
‘In distress great, I call You God:
I cry to You for help! ’
Into the heart of sea, You cast
Me forth and flood covered;
I thought I was forever lost;
Would I see your temple?
The swirling sea threatened my life;
Sea-weeds clung to my head;
I plunged into the sea-abyss;
You brought me from the pit!
A giant fish then gulped me whole,
My soul fainted in me;
I prayed to You for mercy, Lord,
You heard my plaintive voice.
I praised You, Lord with all my heart
And vowed to sacrifice;
Deliver me from fish, O God:
Jonah was spat ashore!
(4-25-2007)
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Psalm 86
Thy gracious ear, O Lord, encline,
O hear me I thee pray,
For I am poor, and almost pine
With need, and sad decay.
Preserve my soul, for *I have trod Heb. I am good, loving,
Thy waies, and love the just, a doer of good and
Save thou thy servant O my God holy things
Who still in thee doth trust.
Pity me Lord for daily thee
I call; 4 O make rejoyce
Thy Servants Soul; for Lord to thee
I lift my soul and voice,
For thou art good, thou Lord art prone
To pardon, thou to all
Art full of mercy, thou alone
To them that on thee call.
Unto my supplication Lord
Give ear, and to the crie
Of my incessant praiers afford
Thy hearing graciously.
I in the day of my distress
Will call on thee for aid;
For thou wilt grant me free access
And answer, what I pray'd.
Like thee among the gods is none
O Lord, nor any works
Of all that other Gods have done
Like to thy glorious works.
The Nations all whom thou hast made
Shall come, and all shall frame
To bow them low before thee Lord,
And glorifie thy name.
For great thou art, and wonders great
By thy strong hand are done,
Thou in thy everlasting Seat
Remainest God alone.
Teach me O Lord thy way most right,
I in thy truth will hide,
To fear thy name my heart unite
So shall it never slide.
Thee will I praise O Lord my God
Thee honour, and adore
With my whole heart, and blaze abroad
Thy name for ever more.
For great thy mercy is toward me,
And thou hast free'd my Soul
Eev'n from the lowest Hell set free
From deepest darkness foul.
O God the proud against me rise
And violent men are met
To seek my life, and in their eyes
No fear of thee have set.
But thou Lord art the God most mild
Readiest thy grace to shew,
Slow to be angry, and art stil'd
Most mercifull, most true.
O turn to me thy face at length,
And me have mercy on,
Unto thy servant give thy strength,
And save thy hand-maids Son.
Some sign of good to me afford,
And let my foes then see
And be asham'd, because thou Lord
Do'st help and comfort me.
poem by John Milton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Lift Every Voice and Sing
Lift ev'ry voice and sing,
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the list'ning skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us;
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.
Stony the road we trod,
Bitter the chast'ning rod,
Felt in the days when hope unborn had died;
Yet with a steady beat,
Have not our weary feet
Come to the place for which our fathers sighed?
We have come over a way that with tears has been watered.
We have come, treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered,
Out from the gloomy past,
Till now we stand at last
Where the white gleam of our bright star is cast.
God of our weary years,
God of our silent tears,
Thou who hast brought us thus far on the way;
Thou who hast by Thy might,
Led us into the light,
Keep us forever in the path, we pray.
Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee,
Lest our hearts, drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee;
Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land.
poem by James Weldon Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Assyrian City Nineveh Repents
Jonah disobeyed fled toward Tarshish
because knowing God to be gracious
merciful, slow to anger, and abundant
in loving-kindness, regretting calamity.
Jonah knew God would forgive regret
his decision to destroy Nineveh a city
of more than 120,000 men domestic
animals living in spiritual darkness;
not knowing the difference between
their right hand and their left; between
good and evil. Jonah by God was forced
to voice God’s forty day warning and thus
Jonah 3: 1-4.
the king of Nineveh ordered a great fast.
All wore from greatest to the least
sackcloth, none ate nor drank not,
man nor domestic animal; all the men
called to God with strength repented
of bad ways violence of their hands.
God turned back from his burning anger
felt regret spared Nineveh did not perish.
Jonah 3: 5-10.
What moral by Jonah’s story is taught?
Jonah’s story teaches obedience necessary,
without question, to obey the will of God;
taught a willingness of spirit, gratitude,
compassion God’s grace patience mercy.
poem by Terence George Craddock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Your (pbuy) Love's Miracles
The space is full of small droplets, delicate
But all of the don't have the same fate,
Only those the colors of the rainbow create
Who are blessed with your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless flowers smile in parks and valleys
Not for months and years but some dailies
Only those give forth sweet smell in rallies
Who want to see you, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
A large variety of herbs spreads on the ground
Some with ease and some with hardship found
Only those for good health are the most sound
That want to kiss your feet, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Numberless particles lie down on earth's face
Humility stays with them in close, fast embrace
Only those shine with marvelous, high grace
Who wait for you, o dear peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless oysters live in the lap of ocean
Pearls are not found in the same proportion
But in those who have your love's passion
Are blessed with pearls, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless stars roam about in endless heaven
All the time, in all seasons, round the days seven
But only those flames dark night does enliven
That pray for you o dear, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Homeless clouds float in the sea of sky
Some crawl low some move on high
Only those quench the thirst of earth dry
That saturate with your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Countless breaths come to us and depart
With them moves ahead life's slow cart
But only those give life to the beating heart
That are filled with your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
Endless tears trickle down the walls of eyes
Along with repeated sobs and fast sighs
But only that to the high heaven flies
That is shed in your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
May we also become fortunate Amen!
May we also get your love's charming sheen!
May we get a glance of your kindness keen!
Life and death in your love, peace be upon you!
O Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon you!
poem by Prof Niamat Ali Murtazai
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Negro Girl
I.
Dark was the dawn, and o'er the deep
The boist'rous whirlwinds blew;
The Sea-bird wheel'd its circling sweep,
And all was drear to view--
When on the beach that binds the western shore
The love-lorn ZELMA stood, list'ning the tempest's roar.
II.
Her eager Eyes beheld the main,
While on her DRACO dear
She madly call'd, but call'd in vain,
No sound could DRACO hear,
Save the shrill yelling of the fateful blast,
While ev'ry Seaman's heart, quick shudder'd as it past.
III.
White were the billows, wide display'd
The clouds were black and low;
The Bittern shriek'd, a gliding shade
Seem'd o'er the waves to go !
The livid flash illum'd the clam'rous main,
While ZELMA pour'd, unmark'd, her melancholy strain.
IV.
"Be still!" she cried, "loud tempest cease!
"O ! spare the gallant souls:
"The thunder rolls--the winds increase--
"The Sea, like mountains, rolls!
"While, from the deck, the storm worn victims leap,
"And o'er their struggling limbs, the furious billows sweep.
V.
"O! barb'rous Pow'r! relentless Fate!
"Does Heav'n's high will decree
"That some should sleep on beds of state,--
"Some, in the roaring Sea ?
"Some, nurs'd in splendour, deal Oppression's blow,
"While worth and DRACO pine--in Slavery and woe!
VI.
"Yon Vessel oft has plough'd the main
"With human traffic fraught;
"Its cargo,--our dark Sons of pain--
"For worldly treasure bought !
"What had they done?--O Nature tell me why--
"Is taunting scorn the lot, of thy dark progeny?
VII.
"Thou gav'st, in thy caprice, the Soul
"Peculiarly enshrin'd;
"Nor from the ebon Casket stole
"The Jewel of the mind!
"Then wherefore let the suff'ring Negro's breast
"Bow to his fellow, MAN, in brighter colours drest.
VIII.
"Is it the dim and glossy hue
"That marks him for despair?--
"While men with blood their hands embrue,
"And mock the wretch's pray'r?
"Shall guiltless Slaves the Scourge of tyrants feel,
"And, e'en before their GOD ! unheard, unpitied kneel.
IX.
"Could the proud rulers of the land
"Our Sable race behold;
"Some bow'd by torture's Giant hand
"And others, basely sold !
"Then would they pity Slaves, and cry, with shame,
"Whate'er their TINTS may be, their SOULS are still the same!
X.
"Why seek to mock the Ethiop's face?
"Why goad our hapless kind?
"Can features alienate the race--
"Is there no kindred mind?
"Does not the cheek which vaunts the roseate hue
"Oft blush for crimes, that Ethiops never knew?
XI.
"Behold ! the angry waves conspire
"To check the barb'rous toil!
"While wounded Nature's vengeful ire--
"Roars, round this trembling Isle!
"And hark ! her voice re-echoes in the wind--
"Man was not form'd by Heav'n, to trample on his kind!
XII.
"Torn from my Mother's aching breast,
"My Tyrant sought my love--
"But, in the Grave shall ZELMA rest,
"E'er she will faithless prove--
"No DRACO!--Thy companion I will be
"To that celestial realm, where Negros shall be free!
XIII.
"The Tyrant WHITE MAN taught my mind--
"The letter'd page to trace;--
"He taught me in the Soul to find
"No tint, as in the face:
"He bade my Reason, blossom like the tree--
"But fond affection gave, the ripen'd fruits to thee.
XIV.
"With jealous rage he mark'd my love
"He sent thee far away;--
"And prison'd in the plantain grove--
"Poor ZELMA pass'd the day--
"But ere the moon rose high above the main,
"ZELMA, and Love contriv'd, to break the Tyrant's chain.
XV.
"Swift, o'er the plain of burning Sand
"My course I bent to thee;
"And soon I reach'd the billowy strand
"Which bounds the stormy Sea.--
"DRACO! my Love! Oh yet, thy ZELMA'S soul
"Springs ardently to thee,--impatient of controul.
XVI.
"Again the lightning flashes white--
"The rattling cords among!
"Now, by the transient vivid light,
"I mark the frantic throng!
"Now up the tatter'd shrouds my DRACO flies--
While o'er the plunging prow, the curling billows rise.
XVII.
"The topmast falls--three shackled slaves--
"Cling to the Vessel's side!
"Now lost amid the madd'ning waves--
"Now on the mast they ride--
"See ! on the forecastle my DRACO stands
"And now he waves his chain, now clasps his bleeding hands.
XVIII.
"Why, cruel WHITE-MAN! when away
"My sable Love was torn,
"Why did you let poor ZELMA stay,
On Afric's sands to mourn?
"No ! ZELMA is not left, for she will prove
"In the deep troubled main, her fond--her faithful LOVE."
XIX.
The lab'ring Ship was now a wreck,
The shrouds were flutt'ring wide!
The rudder gone, the lofty deck
Was rock'd from side to side--
Poor ZELMA'S eyes now dropp'd their last big tear,
While, from her tawny cheek, the blood recoil'd with fear.
XX.
Now frantic, on the sands she roam'd,
Now shrieking stop'd to view
Where high the liquid mountains foam'd,
Around the exhausted crew--
'Till, from the deck, her DRACO'S well known form
Sprung mid the yawning waves, and buffetted the Storm.
XXI.
Long, on the swelling surge sustain'd
Brave DRACO sought the shore,
Watch'd the dark Maid, but ne'er complain'd,
Then sunk, to gaze no more!
Poor ZELMA saw him buried by the wave--
And, with her heart's true Love, plung'd in a wat'ry grave.
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hope arising from retrospection
Alas! my fond enquiring soul,
Doom'd in suspence to mourn;
Now let thy moments calmly roll,
Now let thy peace return.
Why should'st thou let a doubt disturb
Thy hopes, which daily rise,
And urge thee on to trust his word
Who built and rules the skies?
Look back thro' what intricate ways
He led thy unfriended feet;
Oft mourning in the cheerless maze,
He ne'er forsook thee yet.
When thunder from heav'n's arch did break,
And cleft the sinking ship,
His mercy snatch'd thee from the wreck,
And from the rolling deep:
And when Disease, with threat'ning mein,
Aim'd at thy trembling heart,
Again his mercy interven'd,
And turn'd aside the dart.
When Murder sent her hopeless cries
More dreadful thro' the gloom,
And kindling flames did round thee rise,
Deep harvests to consume;
Who was it led thee thro' the wood
And o'er th' ensanguin'd plain,
Unseen by ambush'd sons of blood,
Who track'd thy steps in vain?
'Twas pitying heav'n that check'd my tears,
And bade my infants play,
To give an opiate to my fears,
And cheer the lonely way.
And in the doubly dreadful night
When my Abella died,
When horror struck---detesting light!
I sunk down by her side:
When wing'd for flight my spirit stood,
With this fond thought beguil'd,
To lead my charmer to her God,
And there to claim my child;
Again his mercy o'er my breast
Effus'd the breath of peace;
Subsiding passions sunk to rest,
He bade the tempest cease.
Oh! let me ever, ever praise
Such undeserved care;
Tho' languid may appear my lays,
At least they are sincere.
I never will distrust thee more,
Tho' hell should aim her dart;
Innoxious is infernal pow'r,
If thou Protector art.
It is my joy that thou art God,
Eternal, and supreme---
Rise Nature! hail the power aloud,
From whom creation came.
poem by Ann Eliza Bleecker from The Posthumous Works of Ann Eliza Bleecker
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn 149
The offices of Christ. From several scriptures.
Join all the names of love and power
That ever men or angels bore,
All are too mean to speak his worth,
Or set lmmannel's glory forth.
But O what condescending ways
He takes to teach his heav'nly grace
My eyes with joy and wonder see
What forms of love he bears for me.
[The Angel of the cov'nant stands
With his commission in his hands,
Sent from his Father's milder throne,
To make the great salvation known.]
[Great Prophet! let me bless thy name;
By thee the joyful tidings came
Of wrath appeased, of sins forgiv'n,
Of hell subdued, and peace with heav'n.]
[My bright Example and my Guide,
I would be walking near thy side;
O let me never run astray,
Nor follow the forbidden way!]
[I love my Shepherd, he shall keep
My wand'ring soul among his sheep;
He feeds his flock, he calls their names,
And in his bosom bears the lambs.]
[My Surety undertakes my cause,
Answering his Father's broken laws:
Behold my soul at freedom set,
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.]
[Jesus, my great High Priest, has died;
I seek no sacrifice beside;
His blood did once for all atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.]
[My Advocate appears on high,
The Father lays his thunder by;
Not all that earth or hell can say
Shall turn my Father's heart away.]
[My Lord, my Conqueror, and my King!
Thy sceptre and thy sword I sing;
Thine is the vict'ry, and I sit
A joyful subject at thy feet.]
[Aspire, my soul, to glorious deeds,
The Captain of salvation leads;
March on, nor fear to win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way.]
[Should death, and hell, and powers unknown,
Put all their forms of mischief on,
I shall be safe; for Christ displays
Salvation in more sovereign ways.]
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
We Are Jonah
And the round old fox, stepped up to make his speech
His ship was on the rocks, and rescue out of reach
Spotlit he stood, said what he thought he should
Half the crowd did laugh, though there was no joke
And soon the other half were swallowed up in smoke
A robin on the wing, could be heard to sing, the strangest thing
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the plane did land, for some it did not crash
From it emerged a man, in trainers and moustache
Down he laid his load, upon the heated road
Then the road did part, and the tar did melt
He loosened up his heart, he tightened up his belt
Like a piece of string, then he began to sing, like a pearly king
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the scene did shift, to a sun kissed sea
There was montgomery clift, jonah, the whale and me
As the sun it set, montgomery placed his bet
Then the whale did yawn, and fell asleep in four
From dusk till dawn, you shoul have heard him snore
From tierra-del-fuego, to the alaskan snows... there she blows!
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
My dear old grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Grandma
We are jonah, rolling along in the teeth of a whale
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
We Are Jonah
And the round old fox, stepped up to make his speech
His ship was on the rocks, and rescue out of reach
Spotlit he stood, said what he thought he should
Half the crowd did laugh, though there was no joke
And soon the other half were swallowed up in smoke
A robin on the wing, could be heard to sing, the strangest thing
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the plane did land, for some it did not crash
From it emerged a man, in trainers and moustache
Down he laid his load, upon the heated road
Then the road did part, and the tar did melt
He loosened up his heart, he tightened up his belt
Like a piece of string, then he began to sing, like a pearly king
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Then the scene did shift, to a sun kissed sea
There was montgomery clift, jonah, the whale and me
As the sun it set, montgomery placed his bet
Then the whale did yawn, and fell asleep in four
From dusk till dawn, you shoul have heard him snore
From tierra-del-fuego, to the alaskan snows... there she blows!
Grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
My dear old grandma, we are jonah
Rolling along in the teeth of a whale
Grandma
We are jonah, rolling along in the teeth of a whale
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Hymn 150
The offices of Christ. From several scriptures.
Join all the glorious names
Of wisdom, love, and power,
That ever mortals knew,
That angels ever bore:
All are too mean to speak his worth,
Too mean to set my Savior forth.
But O what gentle terms,
What condescending ways,
Doth our Redeemer use
To teach his heav'nly grace!
Mine eyes with joy and wonder see
What forms of love he bears for me.
[Arrayed in mortal flesh,
He like an angel stands,
And holds the promises
And pardons in his hands;
Commissioned from his Father's throne
To make his grace to mortals known.]
[Great Prophet of my God,
My tongue would bless thy name;
By thee the joyful news
Of our salvation came:
The joyful news of sins forgiv'n,
Of hell subdued, and peace with heav'n.]
[Be thou my Counsellor,
My Pattern, and my Guide;
And through this desert land
Still keep me near thy side:
O let my feet ne'er run astray,
Nor rove, nor seek the crooked way.]
[I love my Shepherd's voice,
His watchful eyes shall keep
My wand'ring soul among
The thousands of his sheep:
He feeds his flock, he calls their names,
His bosom bears the tender lambs.]
[To this dear Surety's hand
Will I commit my cause;
He answers and fulfils
His Father's broken laws:
Behold my soul at freedom set!
My Surety paid the dreadful debt.]
[Jesus, my great High Priest,
Offered his blood, and died;
My guilty conscience seeks
No sacrifice beside:
His powerful blood did once atone,
And now it pleads before the throne.]
[My Advocate appears
For my defence on high;
The Father bows his ears,
And lays his thunder by:
Not all that hell or sin can say
Shall turn his heart, his love away.]
[My dear Almighty Lord,
My Conqueror and my King!
Thy sceptre and thy sword,
Thy reigning grace I sing:
Thine is the power; behold, I sit
In willing bonds before thy feet.]
[Now let my soul arise,
And tread the tempter down;
My Captain leads me forth
To conquest and a crown:
A feeble saint shall win the day,
Though death and hell obstruct the way.]
Should all the hosts of death,
And powers of hell unknown,
Put their most dreadful forms
Of rage and mischief on,
I shall be safe, for Christ displays
Superior power, and guardian grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!