‘They have not chosen me,’ he said,
‘But I have chosen them!’
Brave—Broken hearted statement—
Uttered in Bethlehem!
I could not have told it,
But since Jesus dared—
Sovereign! Know a Daisy
They dishonor shared!
Tag: poem
Cruelty has a Human Heart
And Jealousy a Human Face
Terror the Human Form Divine
And Secrecy, the Human Dress
The Human Dress, is forged Iron
The Human Form, a fiery Forge.
The Human Face, a Furnace seal’d
The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge.
The poet asks, and Phillis can’t refuse
To show th’ obedience of the Infant muse.
She knows the Quail of most inviting taste
Fed Israel’s army in the dreary waste;
And what’s on Britain’s royal standard borne,
But the tall, graceful, rampant Unicorn?
The Emerald with a vivid verdure glows
Among the gems which regal crowns compose;
Boston’s a town, polite and debonair,
To which the beaux and beauteous nymphs repair,
Each Helen strikes the mind with sweet surprise,
While living lightning flashes from her eyes,
See young Euphorbus of the Dardan line
By Manelaus’ hand to death resign:
The well known peer of popular applause
Is C—-m zealous to support our laws.
Quebec now vanquish’d must obey,
She too much annual tribute pay
To Britain of immortal fame.
And add new glory to her name.
THY various works, imperial queen, we see,
How bright their forms! how deck’d with pomp
by thee!
Thy wond’rous acts in beauteous order stand,
And all attest how potent is thine hand.
From Helicon’s refulgent heights attend,
Ye sacred choir, and my attempts befriend:
To tell her glories with a faithful tongue,
Ye blooming graces, triumph in my song.
Now here, now there, the roving Fancy flies,
Till some lov’d object strikes her wand’ring eyes,
Whose silken fetters all the senses bind,
And soft captivity involves the mind.
Imagination! who can sing thy force?
Or who describe the swiftness of thy course?
Soaring through air to find the bright abode,
Th’ empyreal palace of the thund’ring God,
We on thy pinions can surpass the wind,
And leave the rolling universe behind:
From star to star the mental optics rove,
Measure the skies, and range the realms above.
There in one view we grasp the mighty whole,
Or with new worlds amaze th’ unbounded soul.
Though Winter frowns to Fancy’s raptur’d eyes
The fields may flourish, and gay scenes arise;
The frozen deeps may break their iron bands,
And bid their waters murmur o’er the sands.
Fair Flora may resume her fragrant reign,
And with her flow’ry riches deck the plain;
Sylvanus may diffuse his honours round,
And all the forest may with leaves be crown’d:
Show’rs may descend, and dews their gems disclose,
And nectar sparkle on the blooming rose.
Such is thy pow’r, nor are thine orders vain,
O thou the leader of the mental train:
In full perfection all thy works are wrought,
And thine the sceptre o’er the realms of thought.
Before thy throne the subject-passions bow,
Of subject-passions sov’reign ruler thou;
At thy command joy rushes on the heart,
And through the glowing veins the spirits dart.
Fancy might now her silken pinions try
To rise from earth, and sweep th’ expanse on high:
From Tithon’s bed now might Aurora rise,
Her cheeks all glowing with celestial dies,
While a pure stream of light o’erflows the skies.
The monarch of the day I might behold,
And all the mountains tipt with radiant gold,
But I reluctant leave the pleasing views,
Which Fancy dresses to delight the Muse;
Winter austere forbids me to aspire,
And northern tempests damp the rising fire;
They chill the tides of Fancy’s flowing sea,
Cease then, my song, cease the unequal lay.
The world has held great Heroes,
As history-books have showed;
But never a name to go down to fame
Compared with that of Toad
The clever men at Oxford
Know all that there is to be knowed.
But they none of them knew one half as much
As intelligent Mr Toad!
The animals sat in the Ark and cried,
Their tears in torrents flowed.
Who was it said, “There’s land ahead?”
Encouraging Mr Toad!
The Army all saluted
As they marched along the road.
Was it the King? Or Kitchener?
No. It was Mr Toad!
The Queen and her Ladies-in-waiting
Sat at the window and sewed.
She cried, “Look! who’s that handsome man?”
They answered, “Mr Toad.”
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.
ATTEND my lays, ye ever honour’d nine,
Assist my labours, and my strains refine;
In smoothest numbers pour the notes along,
For bright Aurora now demands my song.
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies,
Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies:
The morn awakes, and wide extends her rays,
On ev’ry leaf the gentle zephyr plays;
Harmonious lays the feather’d race resume,
When in the chronicle of wasted timeI see descriptions of the fairest wights,
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme
In praise of ladies dead and lovely knights,
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty’s best,
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,
I see their antique pen would have express’d
Even such a beauty as you master now.
So all their praises are but prophecies
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;
And, for they look’d but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing:
For we, which now behold these present days,
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
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.
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.
GoodPoetry 