Poetry Saturday—Not Divided

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E’en for the dead, I will not bind
My soul to grief,
Death cannot long divide,
For it is not as though the rose
that
Climbed my garden wall,
Had blossomed on the other side?
Death doth hide,
But not divide!
Thou art but on Christ’s other side,
Thou art with Christ
Christ with me;
In Him united still are we. —Alice Frodsham

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Poetry Saturday—Two For Mom

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My Mom passed away on December 26, 2021. My sister and my son each wrote poems in honor of her life.

Two generations
One begins other goodbyes
Both clasped to Jesus —Denise Van Der Kolk, Haiku for Mom
 
Along the road, sometimes riches disappear
In their place, family and friends appear
Trading time for talents, love and balance
Into the dark we pace together
Fighting wars, we race forever
Some tiresome battles seem unrewarded
But everything in the Kingdom, you can afford it
Here on earth many want more
But in Heaven, you have Riches in Store —Brandon Owens, Riches In Store

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Poetry Saturday—Thou Didst Leave Thy Royal Throne

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Thou didst leave Thy throne and Thy kingly crown,
When Thou camest to earth for me;
But in Bethlehem’s home was there found no room
For Thy holy nativity.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
There is room in my heart for Thee.

Heaven’s arches rang when the angels sang,
Proclaiming Thy royal degree;
But of lowly birth didst Thou come to earth,
And in great humility.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
There is room in my heart for Thee.

The foxes found rest, and the birds their nest
In the shade of the forest tree;
But Thy couch was the sod, O Thou Son of God,
In the deserts of Galilee.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
There is room in my heart for Thee

Thou camest, O Lord, with the living word
That should set Thy people free;
But with mocking scorn, and with crown of thorn,
They bore Thee to Calvary.
O come to my heart, Lord Jesus,
There is room in my heart for Thee.

When the heavens shall ring, and the angels sing,
At Thy coming to victory,
Let Thy voice call me home, saying “Yet there is room,
There is room at My side for thee.”
My heart shall rejoice, Lord Jesus,
When Thou comest and callest for me. —E.S. Elliot

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Poetry Saturday—He’s Here To Keep

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BrandonMy Dad’s out of town
I feel alone
I’m feeling really down
He can’t reach the phone
All of a sudden the phone rings
My heart sings
I pick up the phone
He said only one more day
And in his voice was a great tone
He said what I wanted him to say
One more time of sleep
And then he’s here to keep —Brandon Owens (4th grade poetry assignment)


Poetry Saturday—Before

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Before you speak, listen.
Before you write, think.
Before you spend, earn.
Before you invest, investigate.
Before you criticize, wait.
Before you pray, forgive.
Before you quit, try.
Before you retire, save.
Before you die, give. —William Arthur Ward

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Poetry Saturday—Before The Throne Of God Above

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Before the throne of God above
I have a strong and perfect plea,
A great High Priest whose name is Love,
Who ever lives and pleads for me.
My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart;
I know that while in heav’n He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart,
No tongue can bid me thence depart. 

When satan tempts me to despair
And tells me of the guilt within,
Upward I look and see Him there
Who made an end of all my sin.
Because the sinless Savior died,
My sinful soul is counted free;
For God the Just is satisfied
To look on Him and pardon me,
To look on Him and pardon me. 

Behold Him there! The risen Lamb,
My perfect, spotless righteousness;
The great unchangeable “I AM,”
The King of glory and of grace!
One with Himself I cannot die,
My soul is purchased by His blood;
My life is hid with Christ on high,
With Christ, my Savior and my God,
With Christ, my Savior and my God. —Charitie Lees Bancroft

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Poetry Saturday—Mental Depression

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Depressed and weary sank the mind in gloom, 
Gloom deep as night in which there is no moon; 
      Times rushing down its darkening cloisters past
      Conflicting thoughts, unhindered, blast on blast,
Until the very brain did shriek and rave in turn,
Reason’s control in madness by it spurned.
      Sudden it ceased, one mighty wrench, then fled
      And stillness o’er the whole its silence spread;
Whilst from the fullness of the immortal soul
Deep tender music did its charm unroll.
      Lifting the burden from the anguished heart
      Sent forth its floods and healed the inward smart;
So! in the midst is heard the Saviour’s voice,
Soulfully sweet, inviting to rejoice;
      And there resounds divinely full and free,
      “Sad, weary heart, be still and come to Me.”
Soon in the soul the sound of quiet rest
Breathes real and low and draws us to His breast,
      Where Jesus, looking in our faces smiled,
      Soothes us to sleep because He loves His child. —Oswald Chambers
 

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Poetry Saturday—Wait

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Cease from disquietude,
Fret not, this is unto thee a preparation time;
Thou must be made in likeness unto Him thou wouldest serve.
Wait, the diamond must be cut ere from its tiny facets
Flash the glory of the sun’s pure ray.
Rain must descend,
Else from yon dull grey bulb springeth no sweet perfumed flower.
Be silent upon God, thy time for service has not come;
Patience, this waiting trial is by Him who loves thee sent;
Be still—He knoweth all, thou knowest that His will is best. —Oswald Chambers

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Poetry Saturday—The Lord Will Provide

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Though troubles assail
And dangers affright,
Though friends should all fail
And foes all unite;
Yet one thing secures us,
Whatever betide,
The Scripture assures us,
The Lord will provide.

The birds without barn
Or storehouse are fed,
From them let us learn
To trust for our bread:
His saints, what is fitting,
Shall ne’er be denied,
So long as ‘tis written,
The Lord will provide.

We may, like the ships,
By tempest be tossed
On perilous deeps,
But cannot be lost.
Though satan enrages
The wind and the tide,
The promise engages,
The Lord will provide.

His call we obey
Like Abram of old,
Not knowing our way,
But faith makes us bold;
For though we are strangers
We have a good Guide,
And trust in all dangers,
The Lord will provide.

When satan appears
To stop up our path,
And fill us with fears,
We triumph by faith;
He cannot take from us,
Though oft he has tried,
This heart-cheering promise,
The Lord will provide.

He tells us we’re weak,
Our hope is in vain,
The good that we seek
We ne’er shall obtain,
But when such suggestions
Our spirits have plied,
This answers all questions,
The Lord will provide.

No strength of our own,
Or goodness we claim,
Yet since we have known
The Savior’s great name;
In this our strong tower
For safety we hide,
The Lord is our power,
The Lord will provide.

When life sinks apace
And death is in view,
This word of His grace
Shall comfort us through:
No fearing or doubting
With Christ on our side,
We hope to die shouting,
The Lord will provide. —John Newton


Parallelism

As regular readers of this blog probably know, on Saturdays I like to share poems that I have read during the week. One place I encounter poetry on a regular basis is in my daily Bible reading. But if you have read the Bible, no doubt you have discovered what I have discovered: ancient Hebrew poetry is very different from the poetry we usually read!

I found this helpful chart explaining the parallelism of Hebrew poetry in my Faithlife Illustrated Study Bible, and I thought you might benefit from it too.

If you would like to download this chart, I have shared it as a PDF here → Parallelism

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