“The Lullaby of a Lover” by George Gascoigne


George_Gascoigne

Sing lullaby, as women do,

Wherewith they bring their babes to rest,
And lullaby can I sing too
As womanly as can the best.
With lullaby they still the child,
And if I be not much beguiled,
Full many wanton babes have I
Which must be stilled with lullaby.
     First lullaby my youthful years;
It is now time to go to bed,
For crooked age and hoary hairs
Have won the haven within my head.
With lullaby, then, youth be still;
With lullaby content thy will;
Since courage quails and comes behind,
Go sleep, and so beguile thy mind.
     Next, lullaby my gazing eyes,
Which wonted were to glance apace.
For every glass may now suffice
To show the furrows in my face;
With lullaby then wink awhile,
With lullaby your looks beguile;
Let no fair face nor beauty bright
Entice you eft with vain delight.
     And lullaby, my wanton will;
Let reason’s rule now reign thy thought,
Since all too late I find by skill
How dear I have thy fancies bought;
With lullaby now take thine ease,
With lullaby thy doubts appease.
For trust to this: if thou be still,
My body shall obey thy will.
     Eke lullaby, my loving boy,
My little Robin, take thy rest;
Since age is cold and nothing coy,
Keep close thy coin, for so is best;
With lullaby be thou content,
With lullaby thy lusts relent,
Let others pay which hath mo pence;
Thou art too poor for such expense.
     Thus lullaby, my youth, mine eyes,
My will, my ware, and all that was.
I can no mo delays devise,
But welcome pain, let pleasure pass;
With lullaby now take your leave,
With lullaby your dreams deceive;
And when you rise with waking eye,
Remember then this lullaby.

“A Dialogue, intitled, The Kind Master And The Dutiful Servant” by Jupiter Hammon


Jupiter Hammon

Master.
Come my servant, follow me,
According to thy place;
And surely God will be with thee,
And send the heav’nly grace.

Servant.
Dear Master, I will follow thee,
According to thy word,
And pray that God may be with me,
And save thee in the Lord.

Master.
My Servant, lovely is the Lord,
And blest those servants be,
That truly love his holy word,
And thus will follow me.

Servant.
Dear Master, that’s my whole delight,
Thy pleasure for to do;
As far as grace and truth’s in sight,
Thus far I’ll surely go.

Master.
My Servant, grace proceeds from God,
And truth should be with thee;
Whence e’er you find it in his word,
Thus far come follow me.

Servant,
Dear Master, now without controul,
I quickly follow thee;
And pray that God would bless thy soul,
His heav’nly place to see.

Master.
My Servant, Heaven is high above,
Yea, higher than the sky:
I pray that God would grant his love,
Come follow me thereby.

Servant.
Dear Master, now I’ll follow thee,
And trust upon the Lord;
The only safety that I see,
Is Jesus’s holy word.

Master.
My Servant, follow Jesus now,
Our great victorious King;
Who governs all both high and low,
And searches things within.

Servant.
Dear Master I will follow thee,
When praying to our King;
It is the Lamb I plainly see,
Invites the sinner in.

Master.
My Servant, we are sinners all,
But follow after grace;
I pray that God would bless thy soul,
And fill thy heart with grace.

Servant.
Dear Master I shall follow then,
The voice of my great King;
As standing on some distant land,
Inviting sinners in.

Master.
My Servant we must all appear,
And follow then our King;
For sure he’ll stand where sinners are,
To take true converts in.

Servant.
Dear Master, now if Jesus calls,
And sends his summons in;
We’ll follow saints and angels all,
And come unto our King.

Master.
My Servant now come pray to God
Consider well his call;
Strive to obey his holy word,
That Christ may love us all

A Line on the present War.

Servant.
Dear Master, now it is a time,
A time of great distress;
We’ll follow after things divine,
And pray for happiness.

Master.
Then will the happy day appear,
That virtue shall increase;
Lay up the sword and drop the spear,
And nations seek for peace.

Servant.
Then shall we see the happy end,
Tho’ still in some distress;
That distant foes shall act like friends,
And leave their wickedness.

Master.
We pray that God would give us grace,
And make us humble too;
Let ev’ry nation seek for peace,
And virtue make a show.

Servant.
Then we shall see the happy day,
That virtue is in power;
Each holy act shall have its sway,
Extend from shore to shore.

Master.
This is the work of God’s own hand,
We see by precepts given;
To relieve distress and save the land,
Must be the pow’r of heav’n.

Servant.
Now glory be unto our God,
Let ev’ry nation sing;
Strive to obey his holy word,
That Christ may take them in.

Master.
Where endless joys shall never cease,
Blest Angels constant sing;
The glory of their God increase,
Hallelujahs to their King.

Servant.
Thus the Dialogue shall end,
Strive to obey the word;
When ev’ry nation act like friends,
Shall be the sons of God.

Believe me now my Christian friends,
Believe your friend call’d HAMMON:
You cannot to your God attend,
And serve the God of Mammon.

If God is pleased by his own hand
To relieve distresses here;
And grant a peace throughout the the land,
‘Twill be a happy year.

‘Tis God alone can give us peace;
It’s not the pow’r of man:
When virtuous pow’r shall increase,
‘Twill beautify the land.

Then shall we rejoice and sing
By pow’r of virtues word,
Come sweet Jesus, heav’nly King,
Thou art the Son of God.

When virtue comes in bright array,
Discovers ev’ry sin;
We see the dangers of the day,
And fly unto our King.

Now glory be unto our God,
All praise be justly given;
Let ev’ry soul obey his word,
And seek the joys of Heav’n.

“Hope is the Thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson


Emily Dickinson 2Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all.

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chilliest land

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

“A Poem for Children with Thoughts on Death” by Jupiter Hammon


                              

Jupiter Hammon

                             

                               I

O Ye young and thoughtless youth,
   Come seek the living God,
The scriptures are a sacred truth,
   Ye must believe the word.
                                               Eccl. xii. 1.


                              II
Tis God alone can make you wise,
   His wisdom’s from above,
He fills the soul with sweet supplies
   By his redeeming love.
                                                   Prov. iv. 7.


                              III
Remember youth the time is short,
   Improve the present day
And pray that God may guide your thoughts,
   And teach your lips to pray.
                                                 Psalm xxx. 9.


                              IV
To pray unto the most high God,
   And beg restraining grace,
Then by the power of his word
   You’l see the Saviour’s face.
                              V
Little children they may die,
   Turn to their native dust,
Their souls shall leap beyond the skies,
   And live among the just.
                              VI


Like little worms they turn and crawl,
   And gasp for every breath.
The blessed Jesus sends his call,
   And takes them to his rest.
                              VII


Thus the youth are born to die,
   The time is hastening on,
The Blessed Jesus rends the sky,
   And makes his power known.
                                            Psalm ciii. 15.


                              VIII
Then ye shall hear the angels sing
   The trumpet give a sound,
Glory, glory to our King,
   The Saviour’s coming down.
                                          Matth. xxvi. 64.
                              IX


Start ye saints from dusty beds,
   And hear a Saviour call,
Twas a Jesus Chirst that died and bled,
   And thus preserv’d thy soul.
                             X


This the portion of the just,
   Who lov’d to serve the Lord,
Their bodies starting from the dust,
   Shall rest upon their God.
                              XI


They shall join that holy word,
   That angels constant sing,
Glory, glory to the Lord,
   Hallelujahs to our King.
                              XII


Thus the Saviour will appear,
   With guards of heavenly host,
Those blessed Saints, shall then declare,
   Tis Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
                                              Rev. i. 7, 8.


                              XIII


Then shall ye hear the trumpet sound,
   The graves give up their dead,
Those blessed saints shall quick awake,
   And leave their dusty beds.
                                    Matth. xxvii. 51, 52.


                              XIV
Then shall you hear the trumpet sound,
   And rend the native sky,
Those bodies starting from the ground,
   In the twinkling of an eye.
                             I Cor. xv. 51, 52, 53, 54.


                              XV
There to sing the praise of God,
   And join the angelic train,
And by the power of his word,
   Unite together again.
                              XVI


Where angels stand for to admit
   Their souls at the first word,
Cast sceptres down at Jesus feet
   Crying holy holy Lord.
                              XVII


Now glory be unto our God
   All praise be justly given,
Ye humble souls that love the Lord
   Come seek the joys of Heaven.
Hartford, January 1, 1782.

“Death Be Not Proud” by John Donne


JohnDonneMighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe,

For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overthrow,

Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,

Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,

And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,

Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,

And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,

And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,

And better then thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

“Thank God For Little Children” by Frances E. W. Harper


Thank God for little children,
Bright flowers by earth’s wayside,
The dancing, joyous lifeboats
Upon life’s stormy tide.

Thank God for little children;
When our skies are cold and gray,
They come as sunshine to our hearts,

Continue reading “Thank God For Little Children” by Frances E. W. Harper

“An Address to Miss Phillis Wheatley” by Jupiter Hammon


Jupiter Hammon

I.

O come you pious youth! adore

    The wisdom of thy God,
In bringing thee from distant shore,
    To learn His holy word.
                                                                  Eccles. xii.
II.
Though mightst been left behind
    Amidst a dark abode;
God’s tender mercy still combined,
    Thou hast the holy word.
                                                                  Psal. cxxv. 2, 3.