Related quotes: DEAR Reliques! from a pit...

Feelings of A French Royalist, On The Disinterment Of The Remains Of The Duke D’Enghien

DEAR Reliques! from a pit of vilest mould
Uprisen--to lodge among ancestral kings;
And to inflict shame's salutary stings
On the remorseless hearts of men grown old
In a blind worship; men perversely bold
Even to this hour,--yet, some shall now forsake
Their monstrous Idol if the dead e'er spake,
To warn the living; if truth were ever told
By aught redeemed out of the hollow grave:
O murdered Prince! meek, loyal, pious, brave!
The power of retribution once was given:
But 'tis a rueful thought that willow bands
So often tie the thunder-wielding hands
Of Justice sent to earth from highest Heaven!

poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes

Living God

Living God
Maker of all the heaven and earth
We want to worship you
Living God
You are the prince of peace
The master of the universe
Living God
We are your children
We will never forget you
And you will never forget us either
Living God
We give all the glory to you
Living God
You take away our sins
Living God
We are not perfect like you
So I hope you understand this
Because we are human beings
And we have our faults also
Living God
You are worth to be praise
Living God
Take the place of all the power
Living God
Behold, it comes in might,
The power that is power,
The light that is in darkness,
The shade in dazzling light
It is joy that never spoke,
Living God

poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Vain Spell

THE house sleeps dark and the moon wakes white,
The fields are alight with dew;
'Oh, will you not come to me, Love, to-night?
I have waited the whole night through,
For I knew,
O Heart of my heart, I knew by my heart,
That the night of all nights is this,
When elm shall crack and lead shall part,
When moulds shall sunder and shot bolts start
To let you through to my kiss.'

So spake she alone in the lonely house.
She had wrapped her round with the spell,
She called the call, she vowed the vow,
And the heart she had pledged knew well
That this was the night, the only night,
When the moulds might be wrenched apart,
When the living and dead, in the dead of the night,
Might clasp once more, in the grave's despite,
For the price of a living heart.

But out in the grave the corpse lay white
And the grave clothes were wet with dew;
'Oh, will you not come to me, Love, to-night,
I have waited the whole night through,
For I knew
That I dared not leave my grave for an hour
Since the hour of all hours is near,
When you shall come to the hollow bower,
In a cast of the wind, in a waft of the Power,
To the heart that to-night beats here!'

The moon grows pale and the house sleeps still
Ah, God! do the dead forget?
The grave is white and the bed is chill,
But a guest may be coming yet.
But the hour has come and the hour has gone
That never will come again;
Love's only chance is over and done,
And the quick and the dead are twain, not one,
And the price has been paid in vain.

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Why Is It?

Why is it so, Dear Prince of Peace,
That wrongs to Negroes never cease?
Are they disloyal to thy name,
And thus are punished for the same?

Is this thy training school on earth,
To mould a race of truest worth?
Pray is it thus that lives are pruned
And sanctified, for heaven tuned?

Thou art the refuge of the race,
That all its troubles will efface,
Wilt thou incline the wayward heart,
To keep thy law in ev'ry part?

'Tis needful that offences come,
But woe unto the man by whom!
They come the evil hearts to chain,
And drive them back to thee again.

For such afflictions, we are told,
Bring people nearer to the fold,
If this be true, then teach them now,
To such conditions here to bow.

Thy chosen people suffer here,
Such chastenings as children, dear,
With patience sweet, in peace and love,
Prepare their souls for life above.

They suffer from refining pains,
The kinds that raise to highest planes,
Can this be why, Dear Prince of Peace,
That wrongs to Negroes never cease?

poem by Lizelia Augusta Jenkins Moorer
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Lelek To Me Forvever / Lelek Meni Zauvijek

Who took away from me, my son
To mourn above your grave, my son
To go below with you, my son
To reach the sky with a tear, my son
To spill a cloud from my breasts, my son
To open the heaven's door with a cry, my son
For you a heaven to enter, my son
To curse with a curse
To burn with a thunder, my son
I swear with a thunder in the wing of rain, my son
Made of my milk from my breasts, my son
Lelek lelek to me forever, my son
Lelek to me forever

Cut from breasts with empty hands I stand, my son
In drops I pour in clouds I'm hidden, my son
With bread in my mouth a bitter piece, my son
A cradle rocking in a grave, my son
Feed the earth with earth a grian of my pain, my son
Armfuls of sobs on fire to burn, my son
May the dawn freeze and outbreak halt, my son
Lelek lelek to me forever, my son
Lelek to me forever

I let my hair loose, my son
I tore my plaits, my son
Better to be in your grave, my son
Than to sleep with a stone on my chest, my son
Lelek lelek to me forever, my son
Lelek to me forever

Oh why did I deliver you at all, my son
Under this ruthless sky, my son
Your eyes dead to see, my son
Your hands dead to cross, my son
Your hair dead to caress, my son
Your cheek cold to kiss, my son
The sky will break from my pain, my son
The earth will open from my pain, my son
Swallow everything living in pain, my son
Into the black earth with my pain, my son
Lelek lelek to me forever, my son
Lelek to me forever

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Cycles

When Dave Priest died grave sexton told
to toll bell well for corpse stone cold -
from epiderm to earthworm’s feast
star studded sports sporadic yeast.

The moral reads: reeds brave, deeds bold,
berth bends to end which breaks birth's mould.
Mould broken, mould returned, at least
is he released from life once leased.

Though pitter-pat or thud, thud, thud,
warm blood turns into tainted mud,
must musty dust depart, heart ceased,
Time’s gavel knocks down man and beast.

As cycles spin, out's in's template,
who sees the light before dark fate?

When Dave died grave sexton was told
to toll the bell for one grown old, -
now he is young again, released
from epiderm to earthworm’s feast.

The moral is, however bold,
all bend to end which breaks the mould.
Mould broken, mould returned, as least
is he who highest life once leased.

So whether bid or oversold
warm blood soon rudderless and cold
must musty dust turn heart beat ceased,
Time’s gavel sells off man and beast.

Though cycles swift accelerate,
who sees the light before dark fate?

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Sweet empty sky of June without a stain,

O Lord, the hope of Israel, all they that forsake
Thee shall be ashamed ; and they that depart from
Thee, shall be written in the earth, because they have
forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living waters.
Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed ; save me,
and I shall be saved, for Thou art my health, and my
great deliverer.
I said in the cutting off of my days, I shall go to
the gates of the grave ; I have deprived myself of the
residue of my years.
I said, I shall not see the Lord, even the Lord in the
land of the living : I shall behold man no more with
the inhabitants of the world.
O Lord ! by Thee doth man live, and from Thee is
the life of my spirit : therefore wilt Thou recover me,
and make me to live.
Thou hast in love to my soul delivered it from the
pit of corruption ; for Thou hast cast all my sins
behind Thy back.
For Thy name's sake hast Thou put off thine anger ;
for Thy praise hast Thou refrained from me, that I
should not be cut off.
For the grave cannot praise Thee, death cannot
celebrate Thee : they that go down into the pit, cannot
hope for Thy truth.
The living, the living, he shall praise Thee, as I do
this day : the father to the children shall make known
Thy truth.
O Lord ! Thou hast been merciful, Thou hast
brought back my life from corruption : Thou hast
redeemed me from my sin.
They that follow after lying vanities, forsake their
own mercy.
Therefore shall Thy songs be with me, and my
prayer unto the God of my life.
I will go unto the altar of my God, unto God, the
joy of my youth ; and in Thy fear will I worship
towards Thy holy temple.
I will sacrifice unto Thee with the voice of thanks-
giving ; I will pay that which I have vowed ; sal-
vation is of the Lord.

poem by Henry Vaughan
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Indignation Of A High-Minded Spaniard

WE can endure that He should waste our lands,
Despoil our temples, and by sword and flame
Return us to the dust from which we came;
Such food a Tyrant's appetite demands:
And we can brook the thought that by his hands
Spain may be overpowered, and he possess,
For his delight, a solemn wilderness
Where all the brave lie dead. But, when of bands
Which he will break for us he dares to speak,
Of benefits, and of a future day
When our enlightened minds shall bless his sway;
'Then', the strained heart of fortitude proves weak;
Our groans, our blushes, our pale cheeks declare
That he has power to inflict what we lack strength to bear.

poem by William Wordsworth
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Justice is the One who gives Life on Me

For the people who seek for comfort or dead mercy,
Their fairness sob and yet still strife for their right,
I rage against the death of justice before it will be.

My eyes shed tears, my heart crumpled tenderly
Cries of beggar and poor who gleamed on my sight,
For only Justice is the one who gives life on me.

The soul who screams, murdered by hatred and fury,
By means of politics, they were killed and cause blight
I rage against the death of justice before it will be.

Such criminals must be punish and injured severely,
Either they’ll tell the truth or lie, a freedom to fight,
For only Justice is the one who gives life for me.

Unjust power, ways of government over sovereignty,
To rule the nation seeking in dark the hopes in light
Yet, rage against the death of justice before it will be.

Hearts and souls are estranged on life that’s so unlucky,
And unfair and believers grasp on their faith; hold on tight,
And rage against the death of justice before it will be,
For only Justice, Justice and Justice…
Which the one who gives life to me.

poem by Raymond Cabrera
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In The Garden

When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
Did they know he was the son of god, did they know that he was lord?
Did they hear when he told peter, peter, put up your sword?
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
When they came for him in the garden, did they know?
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
Nicodemus came at night so he wouldnt be seen by men
Saying, master, tell me why a man must be born again.
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
When he spoke to them in the city, did they hear?
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
When he said, pick up your bed and walk, why must you criticize?
Same thing my father do, I can do likewise.
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
When he healed the blind and crippled, did they see?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
The multitude wanted to make him king, put a crown upon his head
Why did he slip away to a quiet place instead?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
Did they speak out against him, did they dare?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
He said, all power is given to me in heaven and on earth.
Did they know right then and there what that power was worth?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
He said, all power is given to me in heaven and on earth.
Did they know right then and there what that power was worth?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?
When he rose from the dead, did they believe?

song performed by by Bob Dylan
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tell the truth and shame the devil

I told the truth, I have shame the devil.i told god the truth not the devil when you push that pedal you have told the truth a shame the devil.

God vs Devil, God the truth and the light, then you have the devil the father of all lies in the prince of darkness.his soul black like the midnight sky, his soul bright up the world.

Tell the truth and shame the devil, my soul ripes water when i tell the truth.so be cool play it by god rule.

poem by Junius Barnes
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Psalm 103 part 1

v.1-7
L. M.
Blessing God for his goodness to soul and body.

Bless, O my soul, the living God,
Call home thy thoughts that rove abroad;
Let all the powers within me join
In work and worship so divine.

Bless, O my soul, the God of grace;
His favors claim thy highest praise:
Why should the wonders he hath wrought
Be lost in silence and forgot?

'Tis he, my soul, that sent his Son
To die for crimes which thou hast done;
He owns the ransom, and forgives
The hourly follies of our lives.

The vices of the mind he heals,
And cures the pains that nature feels
Redeems the soul from hell, and saves
Our wasting life from threat'ning graves.

Our youth decayed, his power repairs;
His mercy crowns our growing years;
He satisfies our mouth with good,
And fills our hopes with heav'nly food.

He sees th' oppressor and th' oppressed,
And often gives the suff'rers rest;
But will his justice more display
In the last great rewarding day.

[His power he showed by Moses' hands,
And gave to Isr'el his commands;
But sent his truth and mercy down
To all the nations by his Son.

Let the whole earth his power confess,
Let the whole earth adore his grace;
The Gentile with the Jew shall join
In work and worship so divine.]

poem by Isaac Watts
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Lines Written On Hearing The News Of The Death Of Napoleon

What! alive and so bold, O Earth?
Art thou not overbold?
What! leapest thou forth as of old
In the light of thy morning mirth,
The last of the flock of the starry fold?
Ha! leapest thou forth as of old?
Are not the limbs still when the ghost is fled,
And canst thou move, Napoleon being dead?

How! is not thy quick heart cold?
What spark is alive on thy hearth?
How! is not HIS death-knell knolled?
And livest THOU still, Mother Earth?
Thou wert warming thy fingers old
O’er the embers covered and cold
Of that most fiery spirit, when it fled--
What, Mother, do you laugh now he is dead?

'Who has known me of old,' replied Earth,
'Or who has my story told?
It is thou who art overbold.'
And the lightning of scorn laughed forth
As she sung, 'To my bosom I fold
All my sons when their knell is knolled,
And so with living motion all are fed,
And the quick spring like weeds out of the dead.

'Still alive and still bold,' shouted Earth,
'I grow bolder and still more bold.
The dead fill me ten thousandfold
Fuller of speed, and splendour, and mirth.
I was cloudy, and sullen, and cold,
Like a frozen chaos uprolled,
Till by the spirit of the mighty dead
My heart grew warm. I feed on whom I fed.

'Ay, alive and still bold.' muttered Earth,
'Napoleon's fierce spirit rolled,
In terror and blood and gold,
A torrent of ruin to death from his birth.
Leave the millions who follow to mould
The metal before it be cold;
And weave into his shame, which like the dead
Shrouds me, the hopes that from his glory fled.'

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Day Of Days

Each eve earth falleth down the dark,
As though its hope were o’er;
Yet lurks the sun when day is done
Behind to-morrow’s door.

Grey grows the dawn while men-folk sleep,
Unseen spreads on the light,
Till the thrush sings to the coloured things,
And earth forgets the night.

No otherwise wends on our Hope:
E’en as a tale that’s told
Are fair lives lost, and all the cost
Of wise and true and bold.

We’ve toiled and failed; we spake the word;
None hearkened; dumb we lie;
Our Hope is dead, the seed we spread
Fell o’er the earth to die.

What’s this? For joy our hearts stand still,
And life is loved and dear,
The lost and found the Cause hath crowned,
The Day of Days is here.

poem by William Morris
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Psalm 135

Praise due to God, not to idols.

Awake, ye saints; to praise your King,
Your sweetest passions raise,
Your pious pleasure, while you sing,
Increasing with the praise.

Great is the Lord, and works unknown
Are his divine employ;
But still his saints are near his throne,
His treasure and his joy.

Heav'n, earth, and sea confess his hand;
He bids the vapors rise;
Lightning and storm at his command
Sweep through the sounding skies.

All power that gods or kings have claimed
Is found with him alone
But heathen gods should ne'er be named
Where our Jehovah's known.

Which of the stocks or stones they trust
Can give them showers of rain?
In vain they worship glitt'ring dust,
And pray to gold in vain.

[Their gods have tongues that cannot talk,
Such as their makers gave;
Their feet were ne'er designed to walk,
Nor hands have power to save.

Blind are their eyes, their ears are deaf,
Nor hear when mortals pray;
Mortals that wait for their relief
Are blind and deaf as they.]

O Britain, know thy living God,
Serve him with faith and fear;
He makes thy churches his abode,
And claims thine honors there.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 138

I will praise you with my whole heart
In Christ alone I stand
I will worship you with all of me
I will raise your name throughout the land

Out of the depths of my soul I cried
And my King He heard my pleas
By His loving-kindness and His truth
I will come to Him on bended knee

And every King will bow His head
And every prince fall down
And every tongue it shall confess
Before the royal crown

That Jesus Christ is Lord of all
And all the kings of men but dust
All other gods are swept away
In God alone all men must trust

And even in the midst of trouble
Your hand it stretched out to me
Your eye is on the meek and lowly
You came to earth to set them free

poem by Frank McEleny
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Your Majesty The Highest

The heaven firmament,
the deity, the master,
having authority.

The ruler of the universe
excellence power over all.

The great stronghold,
miracle and wonder
is in your hands,
amazing power!
perfectly made by
your words.

The power of God
manifest to all living
and the dead.
high above.

holy, holy holy
to God Almighty

Eternal power and
grace devine.

The heaven and earth
is in you.

poem by Jocelyn Dunbar
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Parted Presence

LOVE, I speak to your heart,
Your heart that is always here.
Oh draw me deep to its sphere,
Though you and I are apart,
And yield, by the spirit's art,
Each distant gift that is dear.
O love, my love, you are here!
Your eyes are afar to-day,
Yet, love, look now in mine eyes.
Two hearts sent forth may despise
All dead things by the way.
All between is decay,
Dead hours and this hour that dies.
O love, look deep in mine eyes!
Your hands to-day are not here,
Yet lay them, love, in my hands.
The hourglass sheds its sands
All day for the dead hours' bier;
But now, as two hearts draw near,
This hour like a flower expands.
O love, your hands in my hands!
Your voice is not on the air,
Yet, love, I can hear your voice:
It bids my heart to rejoice
As knowing your heart is there,—
A music sweet to declare
The truth of your steadfast choice.
O love, how sweet is your voice!
To-day your lips are afar,
Yet draw my lips to them, love.
Around, beneath, and above,
Is frost to bind and to bar;
But where I am and you are,
Desire and the fire thereof.
O kiss me, kiss me, my love!
Your heart is never away,
But ever with mine, for ever,
For ever without endeavour,
To-morrow, love, as to-day;
Two blent hearts never astray,
Two souls no power may sever,
Together, O my love, for ever!

poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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Who We Worship

We worship God, for Who He is, Believers, who are forever His,
Redeemed believers on this earth, praising One of eternal worth.
The Lord God is infinite; regarding restrictions, there's not a hint,
Not at all limited by time or space, larger than any span or place.

God is immutable in all His ways; He's changed not all His days,
Is the same yesterday and forever, our Lord God changes never.
God's omnipotent regarding power, more than able, day or hour,
To do anything, mindful of this, God can't contradict, Who He is.

God is omnipresent, all the time, not simply in Heavenly sublime,
Always present, yes everywhere, at any place God shall be there.
God is omniscient, knowing all, and there's nothing, big or small,
That The Lord does not know, even where your thoughts may go.

The Lord above has total freedom, as eternity is where He's from,
He's free to rule the earth below, in ways that only God can know.
Freedom, God gives to each of us, when we accept Christ Jesus,
Freeing us from the bondage of sin, to live our lives through Him.

Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, seated above this earth we trod,
And through The Savior, Jesus Christ, we too, can live a holy life.
The Holy Eternal God is Love, as He reached from Heaven above,
With love He showed to everyone, as He sacrificed His Only Son.

The Lord God is Righteous indeed, an attribute that all must heed,
For all men will be accountable, to Him who died on Calvary's Hill.
God above is totally Sovereign, reigning in the Spirit and His Son,
And Christ, Who reigns eternally, shall reign on earth for all to see.

The Lord God of Heaven is Truth, with revealed scripture as proof,
Of His Mighty Works of the past, pointing to Truths that shall last,
This, The God we worship today, provided for men The Only Way,
To go from earth to Eternal Life, through the Truth of Jesus Christ.

poem by Bob Gotti
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Song from Aella

O SING unto my roundelay,
O drop the briny tear with me;
Dance no more at holyday,
Like a running river be: