Content by George Herbert

Content

by George Herbert

Peace mutt'ring thoughts, and do not grudge to keep

Within the walls of your own breast:

Who cannot on his own bed sweetly sleep,

Can on another's hardly rest.

Gad not abroad at ev'ry quest and call

Of an untrained hope or passion.

To court each place or fortune that doth fall,

Is wantonness in contemplation.

Mark how the fire in flints doth quiet lie,

Content and warm t' it self alone:

But when it would appear to others' eye,

Without a knock it never shone.

Give me the pliant mind, whose gentle measure

Complies and suits with all estates;

Which can let loose to a crown, and yet with pleasure

Take up within a cloister's gates.

This soul doth span the world, and hang content

From either pole unto the center:

Where in each room of the well-furnisht tent

He lies warm, and without adventure.

The brags of life are but a nine days' wonder;

And after death the fumes that spring

From private bodies, make as big a thunder,

As those which rise from a huge King.

Only thy Chronicle is lost; and yet

Better by worms be all once spent,

Than to have hellish moths still gnaw and fret

Thy name in books, which may not rent:

When all thy deeds, whose brunt thou feel'st alone,

Are chaw'd by others' pens and tongue;

And as their wit is their digestion,

Thy nourisht fame is weak or strong.

Then cease discoursing soul, till thine own ground,

Do not thy self or friends importune.

He that by seeking hath himself once found,

Hath ever found a happy fortune.

***memory work for Term 1 of 2013-14 school year

Self-Acquaintance

Self-Acquaintance

by William Cowper

Dear Lord! accept a sinful heart,
Which of itself complains,
And mourns, with much and frequent smart,
The evil it contains.

There fiery seeds of anger lurk,
Which often hurt my frame;
And wait but for the tempter's work,
To fan them to a flame.

Legality holds out a bribe
To purchase life from thee;
And discontent would fain prescribe
How thou shalt deal with me.

While unbelief withstands thy grace,
And puts the mercy by;
Presumption, with a brow of brass,
Says, "Give me, or I die."

How eager are my thoughts to roam
In quest of what they love!
But, ah! when duty calls them home,
How heavily they move!

Oh, cleanse me in a Saviour's blood,
Transform me by thy pow'r,
And make me thy belov'd abode,
And let me rove no more.

Thanksgiving Every Day

"We ought to make the moments notes of happy, glad Thanksgiving; The hours and days a silent phrase of music we are living."

We are by nature ungrateful. Oh, that we would be a thankful people, not just on Thanksgiving, but each and every day God gives us another breath. This is a lovely poem reminding us to be thankful in all things. Be encouraged to thank Him for His bountiful goodness!


We walk on starry fields of white
And do not see the daisies,
For blessings common in our sight
We rarely offer praises.
We sigh for some supreme delight
To crown our lives with splendour,
And quite ignore our daily store
Of pleasures sweet and tender.

Our cares are bold and push their way
Upon our thought and feeling;
They hang about us all the day,
Our time from pleasure stealing.
So unobtrusive many a joy
We pass by and forget it,
But worry strives to own our lives,
And conquers if we let it.

There's not a day in all the year
But holds some hidden pleasure,
And, looking back, joys oft appear
To brim the past's wide measure.
But blessings are like friends, I hold,
Who love and labour near us.
We ought to raise our notes of praise
While living hearts can hear us.

Full many a blessing wears the guise
Of worry or of trouble;
Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,
Who knows the mask is double.
Bur he who has the faith and strength
To thank his God for sorrow
Has found a joy without alloy
To gladden every morrow.

We ought to make the moments notes
Of happy, glad Thankgiving;
The hours and days a silent phrase
Of music we are living.
And so the theme should swell and grow
As weeks and months pass o'er us,
And rise sublime at this good time,
A grand Thanksgiving chorus.

~Ella Wheeler Wilcox


Love,
Queen Mom

Your Duty

No matter how old we are, we can find many reasons to abandon our duties. Here is our new poem for memorization to help us (all of us :)) remember to not let that lazy habit take root in our hearts.

"Your Duty"
~Fanny Allen

When little children try to shirk
From doing any honest work
And always have a good excuse
If asked to be of any use,
They'll find the lazy habit grow
As nearly all the elders know.
And very likely hard to break
Though one may lots of trouble take.
So, start today, and do your bit.
I'm sure you will be glad of it.

"Glory to Thee, My God, This Night"

We're all familiar with the beautiful "Doxology." We sing it in our church every week as we close the service. So, we were surprised to learn, while reading The One Year Book of Poetry during our Morning Time, that those words are just part of a much larger poem titled "Glory to Thee, My God, This Night." What beautiful words with which to close the day.

Glory to thee, my God, this night

for all the blessings of the light;

Keep me, O keep me, King of kings,

Beneath thy own almighty wings.

Forgive me, Lord, for thy dear Son,

The ill that I this day have done,

That with the world, myself, and thee

I, ere I sleep, at peace may be.

Teach me to live, that I may dread

The grave as little as my bed;

Teach me to die, that so I may

Rise glorious at the awful day.

O may my soul on thee repose,

And with sweet sleep mine eyelids close,

Sleep that may me more vigorous make

To serve my God when I awake.

When in the night I sleepless lie,

My soul with heavenly thoughts supply;

Let no ill dreams disturb my rest,

No powers of darkness me molest.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow,

Praise him, all creatures here below,

Praise him above, ye heavenly host,

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

~Thomas Ken (1637-1711)