Among the Evergreens

Stately they rise majestically,
A top the hill along the road.
Towering on high, we see them from afar;
A landmark amidst the rolling fields.
Through the opened gate we drive
Along the attending juniper heralds;
Back into the palace court where
Stately Pine Lords hold council and watch
Over the stones neatly arrayed in rows,
Amongst both shaded grass and sunlit lawn;
As Guardians of the sacred hill,
Where laid beneath the sod,
Are the family and friends we knew.

A peaceful place this sacred court
Where from blue sky with scattered clouds
The sun shines warmly down.
So we wander through that sacred ground,
Noting a loved one there,
Or there a neighbor found,
Or ancient ancestor of a generation
Long before our life began.
Here they lay, reposed serene,
Among the evergreens.

J. William Newcomer, March 2012, Copyright © March 2012, all rights reserved.

Death, be not proud (Holy Sonnet 10) by John Donne

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery.
Thou'art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy'or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

Excerpt from The Aeneid (1)

Oh friends, who greater sufferings still have borne,
(For not unknown to us are former griefs,)
The deity will also give an end,
To These, You have approached the furious rage
Of Scylla and her hoarse resounding cliffs.
You the Cyclopean rocks have known full well.
Recall your courage; banish gloomy fears.
Someday perhaps the memory of these things
Shall yield delight. Through various accidents,
Through many a strait of fortune, we are bound
For Latium, where our fates point out to us
A quiet resting place. There its decreed
Troy's kingdom shall rise again. Be firm,
And keep your hearts in hope of brighter days.

(The Aeneid, Virgil, Book I)

This quote is from the speech of Aeneas to his companions after being swept by a storm upon the coast of Africa near the city of Carthage.

(Quotes from Virgil's Aeneid are from the translation by Christopher Pearse Cranch, 1872)

Of The Father's Love Begotten

Of the Father’s love begotten, ere the worlds began to be,
He is Alpha and Omega, He the source, the ending He,
Of the things that are, that have been,
And that future years shall see, evermore and evermore!

At His Word the worlds were framèd; He commanded; it was done:
Heaven and earth and depths of ocean in their threefold order one;
All that grows beneath the shining
Of the moon and burning sun, evermore and evermore!

He is found in human fashion, death and sorrow here to know,
That the race of Adam’s children doomed by law to endless woe,
May not henceforth die and perish
In the dreadful gulf below, evermore and evermore!

O that birth forever blessèd, when the virgin, full of grace,
By the Holy Ghost conceiving, bare the Savior of our race;
And the Babe, the world’s Redeemer,
First revealed His sacred face, evermore and evermore!

This is He Whom seers in old time chanted of with one accord;
Whom the voices of the prophets promised in their faithful word;
Now He shines, the long expected,
Let creation praise its Lord, evermore and evermore!

O ye heights of heaven adore Him; angel hosts, His praises sing;
Powers, dominions, bow before Him, and extol our God and King!
Let no tongue on earth be silent,
Every voice in concert sing, evermore and evermore!

Righteous judge of souls departed, righteous King of them that live,
On the Father’s throne exalted none in might with Thee may strive;
Who at last in vengeance coming
Sinners from Thy face shalt drive, evermore and evermore!

Thee let old men, thee let young men, thee let boys in chorus sing;
Matrons, virgins, little maidens, with glad voices answering:
Let their guileless songs re-echo,
And the heart its music bring, evermore and evermore!

Christ, to Thee with God the Father, and, O Holy Ghost, to Thee,
Hymn and chant with high thanksgiving, and unwearied praises be:
Honor, glory, and dominion,
And eternal victory, evermore and evermore!

Au­rel­i­us Pru­den­ti­us, 5th Cen­tu­ry (Corde na­tus ex pa­ren­tis); trans­lat­ed from La­tin to Eng­lish by John M. Neale, 1854, and Hen­ry W. Bak­er, 1859.

"The Alchemist" by Patricia St. John

My Master an elixer hath that turns
All base and worthless substances to gold.
From rubble stones He fashions palaces
Most beautiful and stately to behold.
He garners with a craftsman's skillful care
All that we break and weeping cast away.
His eyes see uncut opals in the rock
And shapely vessels in our trampled clay.
The sum of life's lost opportunities,
The broken friendships, and the wasted years,
These are His raw materials;
His hands rest on fragments, weld them with His tears.
A patient Alchemist! --He bides His time,
Broods while the south winds breathe, the
North winds blow,
And weary self, at enmity with self,
Works out its own destruction, bitter slow,
Our gallant highways petered out in mire,
Our airy castles crumbled into dust,
Leaving us stripped of all save firece desire,
He comes, with feet deliberate and slow,
Who counts a contrite heart His sacrifice.
(No other bidders rise to stake their claims,
He only on our ruins sets a price.)
And stooping very low engraves with care
His name, indelible, upon our dust;
And from the ashes of our self-despair
Kindles a flame of hope and humble trust.
He seeks no second site on which to build,
But on the old foundation, stone by stone,
Cementing sad experiance with grace,
Fashions a stronger temple of His own.

An Ordinary Woman’s Extraordinary Faith - The Autobiography of Patricia St. John; Harold Shaw Publishers, Wheaton, IL; (1993) pgs. 297-298

Earth Angst

If blood cries out from the ground
As told in Ancient Writ.
The cry keens loud far above the strident noise
And banter and barter of the world in which we live.
Up to heaven's ear it keens
From the millions and billions,
Over thousands of years, of butchered
Blood soaked dirt of the sons of earth.
Having made fatel choice we live
With the consequence thereof.
Earth groans under the bloodsoaked weight.
Tremors, shivers, quakes.
Longing for redemption's consummation.

(Copyright © March, 2011. All rights reserved.)

And God Made the Rhinos

Could it possible be,
Far out in the universe deep,
In some obscure unknown corner
Of the depths of space unseen;
Could there be a star out there
In some unknown far galaxy,
With a planet going around said star
In an orbital distance mean,
That upon said planet's surface
A Rhino species could be?

And intelligent creatures they,
In their own peculiar way,
With civilization and trade
And cities and towns arrayed.

Bipeds they would be,
Standing upright on two feet,
With horn upon the forehead
Between the eyes with which they see.

What stories they would tell
Of Rhino wars and dangerous deeds,
Of Rhino loves lost and won,
What epic tales they would weave.

Could it be in that deep vastness
Beyond the outer space we see,
In some small corner of the Universe
The Rhinos live and love and dream?

(Copyright © October, 2010. All rights reserved.)