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African-American American American Poetry Belief Christian Christianity Faith Frances E. W. Harper Religion and Spirituality United Kingodm

“A Grain of Sand” by Frances E. W. Harper


Do you see this grain of sand
Lying loosely in my hand?
Do you know to me it brought
Just a simple loving thought?
When one gazes night by night
On the glorious stars of light,
Oh how little seems the span
Measured round the life of man.

Oh! how fleeting are his years
With their smiles and their tears;
Can it be that God does care
For such atoms as we are?
Then outspake this grain of sand
‘I was fashioned by His hand
In the star lit realms of space
I was made to have a place.

‘Should the ocean flood the world,
Were its mountains ‘gainst me hurled
All the force they could employ
Wouldn’t a single grain destroy;
And if I, a thing so light,
Have a place within His sight;
You are linked unto his throne
Cannot live nor die alone.

In the everlasting arms
Mid life’s dangers and alarms
Let calm trust your spirit fill;
Know He’s God, and then be still.’
Trustingly I raised my head
Hearing what the atom said;
Knowing man is greater far
Than the brightest sun or star.

Categories
18th Century African-American American American Poetry Frances E. W. Harper

“Blessed Hope” by France E.W. Harper


Oh! crush it not, that hope so blest,

Which cheers the fainting heart,

And points it to the coming rest,

Where sorrow has no part.

Tear from my heart each worldly prop,

Unbind each earthly string,

But to this blest and glorious hope,

Oh! let my spirit cling.

It cheer’d amid the days of old,

Each holy patriarch’s breast;

It was an anchor to their souls,

Upon it let me rest.

When wandering in dens and caves,

In sheep and goat skins dress’d,

A peel’d and scatter’d people learned

To know this hope was blest.

Help me, amid this world of strife,

To long for Christ to reign,

That when He brings the crown of life,

I may that crown obtain

Categories
Bible Biblical Poetry

“Love” from 1 Corinthians 13


1 Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.

And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.

And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;

Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.

For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.

10 But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.

11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

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Uncategorized

“On Being Brought from Africa to America” by Phillis Wheately


Phyillis Wheatley‘Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land,
Taught my benighted soul to understand
That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too:
Once I redemption neither sought nor knew.
Some view our sable race with scornful eye,
“Their colour is a diabolic die.”
Remember, ChristiansNegros, black as Cain,
May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.
Categories
African-American American Black History Celebration Faith Hope Jupiter Hammond Poetry United States

“An Evening Thought: Salvation by Christ, with Penetential Cries” by Jupiter Hammon


Salvation comes by Jesus Christ alone,

    The only Son of God;
Redemption now to every one,
    That love his holy Word.
Dear Jesus we would fly to Thee,
    And leave off every Sin,
Thy Tender Mercy well agree;
    Salvation from our King.
Categories
African-American American Black History Celebration Jupiter Hammond United States

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

Categories
African-American American Black History Children Despair Jupiter Hammond Poetry United States

“A Poem for Children with Thoughts on Death” by 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.
Categories
African-American American Black History Celebration Faith Hope Jupiter Hammond Phillis Wheatley United States

“An Address to Miss Phillis Wheatley” by 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.