Filled with celestial splendor and light,
Sunday, September 1, 2024
Stars of the Morning
Filled with celestial splendor and light,
Friday, December 1, 2023
Here Between Ass & Oxen Mild
Sunday, October 1, 2023
A Mighty Fortress
Friday, September 1, 2023
Blessed September
Thursday, December 1, 2022
What Child Is This*
Friday, April 1, 2022
An Easter Carol
For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play.
Flash forth, thou Sun,
The rain is over and gone, its work is done.
Winter is past,
Sweet Spring is come at last, is come at last.
Bud, Fig and Vine,
Bud, Olive, fat with fruit and oil and wine*.
Break forth this morn
In roses, thou but yesterday a Thorn**.
Uplift thy head,
O pure white Lily through the Winter dead.
Beside your dams
Leap and rejoice, you merry-making Lambs.
All Herds and Flocks
Rejoice, all Beasts of thickets and of rocks.
Sing, Creatures, sing,
Angels and Men and Birds and everything.
All notes of Doves
Fill all our world: this is the time of loves.
-Christina G. Rossetti (1830-1894)
**Compares the flowerless rose, all thorns "just yesterday", to the contrast between Good Friday, when the Lord died, to the blossom of His resurrection on Easter.
Saturday, December 2, 2017
On Christmas Night All Christians Sing*
On Christmas night all Christians sing
To hear the news the angels bring:
News of great joy, news of great mirth,
News of our merciful King’s birth.
Angels with joy sing in the air,
No music may with theirs compare;
While prisoners in their chains rejoice
To hear the echoes of that voice.
When Jesus comes to make us glad;
From sin and hell to set us free,
And buy for us our liberty?
When sin departs before His grace,
Then life and health come in its place;
Angels and men with joy may sing,
All to see our newborn King.
Then out of darkness we see light,
Which makes the angels sing this night
“Glory to God and peace to men
Now and forevermore. Amen.”
---A folk carol of rural England & Ireland,
*known in some versons as "The Sussex Carol"
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
North Rim Grand Canyon
[July 2017 vacation]
Some things are poetry without words!
Saturday, August 8, 2015
O, Mother Dear, Jerusalem
O mother dear, Jerusalem*,
When shall I come to thee?
When shall my sorrows have an end,
Thy joys when shall I see?
O happy harbor of God's saints!
O sweet and pleasant soil!
In thee no sorrow may be found,
No grief, no care, no toil.
Continually are green;
There grow such sweet and pleasant flow’rs,
As nowhere else are seen.
There trees forever more bear fruit,
And evermore do spring,
There evermore the angels sit,
And evermore do sing.
Would God I were in thee!
Would God my woes were at an end,
Thy joys that I might see!
Nor gloom, nor darksome night;
But every soul shines as the sun,
For God Himself gives light.