Posted on 10/13/2017 11:47:13 AM PDT by mairdie
Benny, of Due South, is a wonderfully good character. Perfect for "Good King Wenceslas" by the Mormon Tabernacle. Choirs are often difficult to follow for lyrics, but this one is fairly well enunciated.
It’s not even Thanksgiving yet and we’re being bombarded with Christmas themes already since September.
good king wenceslas looked down, and said please call me steven.
i wrote my name upon my shirt, and it ran all down my sleeve-an.
Good King Wenceslas was not in a cult and was not wearing magic underwear, despite the cold temperatures that night.
Well done!
thanks
Now you’re making me wonder if they wore fur on the inside to keep warm. Did anyone wear down before the 70’s?
Well okay I guess but you apparently are missing out on Easter when Yashua showed He had risen. I show Him risen all year. Christmas has fallen into a secular shopping season. In Japan they celebrate Christmas in a frenzy having no real idea what it’s all about.
I didn’t know Mormons did the Santa thing.
I have wonderful memories of holding a candle on a darkened balcony while the whole choir sang Christmas carols. We really enjoyed Christmas in a Catholic high school.
You might enjoy Henry’s Easter poem. He was a deeply religious man, who found great joy and comfort in religion.
I
WHEN JESUS bow’d his awful head
And dy’d [t’] avert our fatal doom,
His friends the sacred corpse convey’d,
To the dark region of the tomb.
II
The Angelic host, with wonder saw,
Their sov’reign leave his bright abode,
To vindicate the righteous law,
Promulged by th Eternal GOD.
III
They view’d him in the sinner’s stead
Obey the precepts man forsook;
While woes unnumbered oer his head,
Like an unbounded ocean broke.
IV
But when they saw the fatal tree,
And there, the son of GOD expire!
(Unknown the ineffable decree,)
Amazement fill’d the heav’nly choir.
V
And the dejected friendless train,
Who fondly dream’t of empire here;
Now mourn’d each expectation vain,
And every hope dissolv’d in air.
VI
Their foes exult. And scoffing cry,
“And is your boasted leader gone?”
“His pow’r! The power but to die?”
“His kingdom! but a narrow tomb?”
VII
Let earth rejoice, let heav’n resound!
Behold the conquering MONARCH rise!
From the dark mansion under ground,
To the bright empire of the skies!
VIII
Resplendant, now each promise shines;
Divinely bright each varying scene.
The great TRANSACTION how sublime!
And LOVE how infinite! to men.
IX
The Angels bow before their KING;
But never hail’d a SAVIOR’S name;
Tis Man, can a REDEEMER sing;
And dying love exalts his theme.
The one time I cornered a Mormon on the Temple grounds I asked him everything I could think of, and never even thought of asking about Santa. The poor man escaped after 45 minutes of questioning. I’m infinitely curious.
Two more of his religious poems that I especially love. The latter was written when he was 78 years old, in 1827. The Easter poem was from 1784.
Without distinction, fame, or note
Upon the tide of life I float,
A bubble almost lost to sight
As cobweb frail, as vapor light;
And yet within that bubble lies
A spark of life which never dies
**************
GOD IS LOVE.
St. John.
I LOVE my feeble voice to raise
In humble pray’r and ardent praise
Till my rapt soul attains that height
When all is glory and delight.
I LOVE to read the book of Heav’n
Which Grace to fall’n man has giv’n;
Where evr’y page and evr’y line
Proclaims its origin divine.
I LOVE that consecrated Fane
Where GOD has stamp’d his holy name:
United with my brethren there
We hear the word and join in pray’r.
I LOVE to join the pious few
And there the covenant renew,
Recount our joys, relate our grief
And jointly ask from GOD relief.
I LOVE on Pity’s wing to fly
To sooth the deep expiring sigh,
To wipe the tear from wan distress
And light a smile on Sorrow’s face.
I LOVE to view domestic bliss
Bound with the ligature of peace,
Where Parents - Children - All agree
To tune the lute of harmony.
I LOVE the morning’s roseate ray,
I bless the glorious march of day,
And when the lulling ev’ning comes
I love the night amidst its glooms.
I LOVE to anticipate the day
When the freed spirit wings its way
To the Jerusalem above
Where reigns ‘th eternal SOURCE of LOVE.
For my beloved daughter Jane.
H. L.
78
Nice.
I’m so glad you like it. Reading Henry always leaves me happy and at peace.
I spent four days at a Shroud of Turin conference. Although they never said the person depicted on the Shroud is Christ they inferred to it many times. Basically they just called the image “The man on the Shroud” - after that conference I believe it really is the Shroud Yeshua was wrapped in.
Due South is a true TV gem.
The only show that could make a 71 Riviera look good.
I’ve put links to the shroud in my link list for Mac, the professor I research with now. Very interesting research. Henry’s father-in-law was Rev. Dr. Noah Welles, a Yale grad, revolutionary minister who died ministering to prisoners on prison ships. His great-great grandfather was Rev. John Livingston, who was sent to negotiate with Charles to land on Scotland. Later he refused to celebrate Charles’ landing as a holyday and had to escape to Amsterdam. Henry’s brother was Rev. Dr. John Henry Livingston, a fairly famous theologian who wrote a book of Psalms, and was the one who healed the schism between the Dutch and American branches of the Dutch Reformed Church.
While going through the newspapers this past year AGAIN searching for poetry, I discovered at least one more religious poem of Henry’s, as well as a marvelous and gentle little moral piece on modesty. Henry had a wild sense of humor, as well as a deep religious belief. Of all the ancestors I’ve found, he’s the one I connect with the most.
Another religious poem you might enjoy of Henry’s, again from 1784.
LO! from the east the sun appears
And all the bright creation cheers!
The dew-wash’d grass erect their spires
And hail the genial orient fires.
While flow’rs expand their ev’ry sweet
And revel in the vital heat.
The lofty oak, the towering pine
To catch his beams sublimely climb!
Their waving tops reflect the blaze
And shed abroad his crimson rays.
Chill’d with the night, the flocks around
In the warm influence blithly bound
And usher in the gladsom day
With all the jollity of play.
The choristers in every grove
Begin the tuneful din of love:
Each bush resounds with sweetest notes!
Wild music on each zephyr floats.
But Man! a nobler theme inspires
And Heav’n ‘th immortal spirit fires!
At nature’s rich & ample feast,
He sits a not unthankful guest,
Remembering all these goods below
From higher sources still do flow.
Led by Ambition all divine
He sighs for pleasures more sublime!
Nor ought his soul can satisfy
Short of the raptures in the skies.
>>The only show that could make a 71 Riviera look good.
THAT was funny!
>>Very interesting research.
Sorry. I hate being sloppy. Interesting research on the shroud.
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