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Quotes about psalm, page 10

Ambrose Bierce

A Wet Season

The rain is fierce, it flogs the earth,
And man's in danger.
O that my mother at my birth
Had borne a stranger!
The flooded ground is all around.
The depth uncommon.
How blest I'd be if only she
Had borne a salmon.

If still denied the solar glow
'T were bliss ecstatic
To be amphibious-but O,
To be aquatic!
We're worms, men say, o' the dust, and they
That faith are firm of.
O, then, be just: show me some dust
To be a worm of.

The pines are chanting overhead
A psalm uncheering.

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An April Adoration

Sang the sun rise on an amber morn -
'Earth, be glad! An April day is born.

'Winter's done, and April's in the skies,
Earth, look up with laughter in your eyes!'

Putting off her dumb dismay of snow,
Earth bade all her unseen children grow.

Then the sound of growing in the air
Rose to God a liturgy of prayer;

And the thronged succession of the days
Uttered up to God a psalm of praise.

Laughed the running sap in every vein,
Laughed the running flurries of warm rain,

Laughed the life in every wandering root,
Laughed the tingling cells of bud and shoot.

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I Get This Feeling

Sometimes I get this feeling
My lot in life is unappealing
Envisioning melancholy thoughts
Stomach is all tied up in knots

But then again, it could be worse
Don't want to occupy a hearse
No, no, that just will not do
Have to adjust my point of view

A full-time job is a beautiful thing
For a chance to grab the brass ring
Being a man of a certain age
Don't want to be in a squirrel cage

Thankful for what I'm blessed with
Money equals happiness is a myth
My woman, my family, my health
Makes me a man of extreme wealth

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Isaac Watts

Psalm 141

v.2-5
L. M.
Watchfulness and brotherly reproof.
A morning or evening Psalm.

My God, accept my early vows,
Like morning incense in thine house;
And let my nightly worship rise
Sweet as the evening sacrifice.

Watch o'er my lips, and guard them, Lord,
From every rash and heedless word;
Nor let my feet incline to tread
The guilty path where sinners lead.

O may the righteous, when I stray,
Smite, and reprove my wand'ring way!
Their gentle words, like ointment shed,
Shall never bruise, but cheer my head.

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Isaac Watts

Psalm 89 part 6

v.47ff
L. M.
Mortality and hope. A funeral psalm.

Remember, Lord, our mortal state,
How frail our life! how short the date!
Where is the man that draws his breath
Safe from disease, secure from death'?

Lord, while we see whole nations die,
Our flesh and sense repine and cry,
"Must death for ever rage and reign?
Or hast thou made mankind in vain?

"Where is thy promise to the just?
Are not thy servants turned to dust?"
But faith forbids these mournful sighs,
And sees the sleeping dust arise.

That glorious hour, that dreadful day,

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Accordance

He who with bold and skilful hand sweeps o'er
The organ-keys of some cathedral pile,
Flooding with music, vault, and nave, and aisle,
Though on his ear falls but a thunderous roar.
In the composer's lofty motive free,
Knows well that all that temple, vast and dim,
Thrills to its base with anthem, psalm, and hymn,
True to the changeless laws of harmony.
So he who on these clanging chords of life,
With firm, sweet touch plays the Great Master's score,
Of truth, and love, and duty, evermore,
Knows, too, that far beyond this roar and strife,
Though he may never hear, in the true time,
These notes must all accord in symphonies sublime.

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Rotgut

The sun shall not smite thee by day, nor
the moon by night. Psalm 121

On a hillside scattered with temples broken
under the dogday sun, my friend and I drank
local wine at nightfall and ate grapeleaves
in goat-yogurt glaze. The living grape vines
bore fruit overhead. Beyond our balcony,
beyond the Turkish rooftops, an old moon
touched Venus at one tip. This vintage,
he said, would melt pig iron. But I wondered,
were we drunk enough, and he said no. I took him,
staggering and laughing, in my arms, and soon,
with snow at nightfall easing off,
another old moon slid into the hill
behind my dead friend’s house. He loved
that smear of light cast back on it from earth.

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Brokenness

Unless the grain of wheat
Falls to the ground and dies

Change won't be complete
Because from there, a new growth lies.

Unless a man be broken
And shed off from his old Self

Molding cannot be given
On the jar there on Life's shelf.

On the clay there must be a crushing
For the new jar to be molded

There must be renewed pounding
For the metal to be welded.

New life can never sprout
From the seed that remains whole

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Fear Versus Faith

The skies opened up and rain did pour.
I heard it from my bed.
The winds were howling and I closed my eyes
and then inside my head
I pictured a clear and sunny day
and pretended all was calm.
The next thing I knew I was praying
the words to the 23rd Psalm.

I fell asleep after the prayer
while the storm was raging on.
But the peace of those words recited by me
erased my fear. It was gone.
For prayer brings you peace
when you're faced with fear.
So let the skies open up. Let it pour.
Let the winds howl far or near.

For my fate will never be determined
by the fury that nature can bring.

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Gentle Poem

The gentle poem with palms so tender
Caress mine heart and with song render
A man sweet, whom was born a brute
Now as gentle as love's played flute
Tranquil I play in her love's fair
And run my fingers down her love's lyre
Never was a love's palm so tranquil
As my love touched a polished heart; genteel
The placid lake of her palms blood
Did gradually inundate my mind's flood
And write her name in my soul clement
For my love to taste and nobly lament
The gentle poem of her calm palm
And sing to me, her amiable psalm
Of ‘love is love in a mine dove-like touch
Lady like, civil, elegant as such
A love like me, sings softly
I love you my love so quietly'….

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