Song (Two Doves Upon The Selfsame Branch)

Two doves upon the selfsame branch,
  Two lilies on a single stem,
Two butterflies upon one flower:--
  O happy they who look on them.

Who look upon them hand in hand
  Flushed in the rosy summer light;
Who look upon them hand in hand
  And never give a thought to night.

--- Christina Rossetti  (1830 - 1894)  

(Although this poem is not specifically Christian, the poetess was)

Holy Saturday

O night that is brighter than day,
O night more dazzling than the sun,
O night more sparkling than fresh snow,
O night more brilliant than all our lamps!
O night that is sweeter than Paradise,...
O night delivered from darkness,
O night that dispels the sleep of sin,
O night that makes us keep vigil with the angels,

O night terrible for the demons,
O night desired by all the year,
O night that leads the bridal Church to her Spouse,
O night that is mother to those enlightened!
O night in which the Devil, sleeping, was despoiled,
O night in which the Heir brings the co-heirs to their heritage.

(Asterius of Pontus AD 341-400)

Jesus, and Could It Ever Be?

[based on Mark 8:38. Regarding being ashamed of Jesus before others now.*]

Jesus! and could it ever be
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?   

Ashamed of Jesus? Sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star.
He sheds the beams of light divine
O'er this benighted soul of mine.  

Sierra Prieta Mountains; Prescott,Arizona

Ashamed of Jesus? Just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon.
'Tis midnight with my soul till He,
Bright Morning Star, bids darkness flee.  

Ashamed of Jesus, that dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend?
No; when I blush, be this my shame,
That I forgot His precious Name.  

Ashamed of Jesus? Yes, I might
When I've no guilt in Yahweh's sight:
No tear to wipe, no joy to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.  

Till then--nor is the boasting vain--
Till then I boast a Savior slain.
And oh, may this my glory be:
That Christ is not ashamed of me!

--Author: Joseph Grigg, 1765; Adapted Benjamin Francis, 1787; cmb, 2013

*from Mark 8:31, 34-38: "[Jesus] began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the [religious leaders].  And that He must be killed and after three days rise again.  He called the crowd and said, 'If anyone wants to come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For what does it profit a person to gain the whole world & lose his own soul?   What will a person give in exchange for his own soul?  For whoever is ashamed of Me and My words in this unfaithful and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of him when He comes back in His Father's glory with the holy angels.'" 

Me and Baby Jesus

(A Houston Christmas)

A Way in a manger,
No hat for my head,
The little lord Jesus
At least had a bed.

The street lights above
Dim the stars in the sky....
Can He see me down here
As I close my eyes?   
  

"Hark" the corner carolers sing
And Army bellers with baskets ring.
Sirens sounding break the night,
Wholly, wholly, wholly fright.

Be near me lord Jesus
I beg you, I pray.
Don't ever leave me,
Or at least til it's day.

Bless me Father for I have sinned.
Come Lord Jesus, Be our Guest,
Quickly, Amen!

No crying He makes
Tho He took All our pain.
He's the Joy in my world,
A warm heart in cold rain.

        






Dogs bark, and babies wake,
Here I lay for Heaven's sake.
From Heaven He came,
To Heaven He'll take -
Me, and Baby Jesus. 

--Carolyn Crandell Koch (c)2013

Author's commentary:   I was inspired to write this while at church I sat and sang, yet I thought about the men on the corner looking for work, or the homeless. I felt in contrast yet I also felt hope, as I know Jesus came down to save us from our lowest points of grief, pain, sin, and ultimately death.

Angels We Have Heard on High

Angels we have heard on high,
Sweetly singing o'er the plains.
And the mountains in reply
Echoing their joyous strains:
"Gloria in excelsis Deo." *

Come to Bethlehem and see
Him whose birth the angels sing.
Come, adore on bended knee

Christ the Lord the Newborn King:
Gloria in excelsis Deo. *

---Anonymous French Carol

*Glory to God in the highest

Autumnal Sonnet

Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast*
Wails in the key-hold, telling how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods
Than any joy indulgent summer dealt.

Dear friends, together in the glimmering eve,
Pensive and glad, with tones that recognize
The soft invisible dew in each one's eyes,
It may be, somewhat thus we shall have leave
To walk with memory,  --when distant lies
Poor Earth, where we were wont to live and grieve.
--William Allingham (1828-1889) 

* Blast of air that warns or admonishes; here, about death coming

 

The Autumn

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them --
The summer flowers depart --
Sit still -- as all transform'd to stone,
Except your musing heart.
 

How there you sat in summer-time,
May yet be in your mind;
And how you heard the green woods sing
Beneath the freshening wind. 

Though the same wind now blows around,
You would its blast recall;
For every breath that stirs the trees,
Doth cause a leaf to fall. 

Oh! like that wind, is all the mirth
That flesh and dust impart:
We cannot bear its visitings,
When change is on the heart.
Gay words and jests may make us smile,
When Sorrow is asleep;
But other things must make us smile,
When Sorrow bids us weep!

 

The dearest hands that clasp our hands, --
Their presence may be o'er;
The dearest voice that meets our ear,
That tone may come no more!
Youth fades; and then, the joys of youth,
Which once refresh'd our mind,
Shall come -- as, on those sighing woods,
The chilling autumn wind.  ---Elizabeth Barrett Browning (1806-1861)