The morns are meeker than they were, The nuts are getting brown; The berry's cheek is plumper, The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf, The field a scarlet gown. Lest I should be old-fashioned, I'll put a trinket on. Emily Dickinson
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"Jesus, Springing"
words Kevin Crossley-Holland (1941-) music Bob Chilcott (1955-) I am the heart that houses the cone, the cone enclosing the cedar, I am the cedar sawn for the cradle, forest of the body, body of the tree. I am the cradle rocking the baby, I am the baby containing the man, I am the man nailed on the cross, tree of the body, body of the forest. I am the cross sawn from the cedar, I am the cedar enclosed in the cone, I am the cone housed in the heart, here in my heart Jesus, springing. Love is little, love is low, Love will make our spirits grow, Grow in peace, grow in light, Love will do the thing that's right. Love is gentle, love is small, Love will find the best of all, Find the peace, find the light, Love will do the thing that's right. Love is silent, love is strong, Love will sing a quiet song, Sing of peace, sing of light, Love will do the thing that's right. Love is wonder, love is grace, Love will bind all in its place; Bind the peace, bind the light, Love will do the thing that's right. "Someday At Christmas"
Ron Miller and Bryan Wells, Someday at Christmas men won't be boys Playing with bombs like kids play with toys One warm December our hearts will see A world where men are free Someday at Christmas there'll be no wars When we have learned what Christmas is for When we have found what life's really worth There'll be peace on earth Someday all our dreams will come to be Someday in a world where men are free Maybe not in time for you and me But someday at Christmastime Someday at Christmas we'll see a land With no hungry children, no empty hand One happy morning people will share Our world where people care Someday at Christmas there'll be no tears All men are equal and no men have fears One shining moment, one prayer away From our world today Someday all our dreams will come to be Someday in a world where men are free Maybe not in time for you and me But someday at Christmastime Someday at Christmas man will not fail Hate will be gone and love will prevail Someday a new world that we can start With hope in every heart Someday all our dreams will come to be Someday in a world where men are free Maybe not in time for you and me But someday at Christmastime Someday at Christmastime Stabat Mater Dolorosa
Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710-1736)for soprano and alto solo Stabat Mater dolorosa Iuxta crucem lacrimosa Dum pendebat Filius. The grieving Mother stood weeping beside the cross where her Son was hanging. Cuius animam gementem Contristatam et dolentem Pertransivit gladius. Through her weeping soul, compassionate and grieving, a sword passed. O quam tristis et afflicta Fuit illa benedicta Mater unigeniti! O how sad and afflicted was that blessed Mother of the only-begotten! Quae moerebat et dolebat, Pia Mater, dum videbat Nati poenas incliti. Who mourned and grieved, seeing and bearing the torment of her glorious child. Quis est homo qui non fleret, Matrem Christi si videret In tanto supplicio? Who is it that would not weep, seeing Christ’s Mother in such agony? Vidit suum dulcem natum Moriendo desolatum Dum emisit spiritum. She saw her sweet child die desolate, as he gave up His spirit. Eja Mater, fons amoris Me sentire vim doloris Fac, ut tecum lugeam. O Mother, fountain of love, make me feel the power of sorrow, that I may grieve with you. Fac, ut ardeat cor meum In amando Christum Deum Ut sibi complaceam. Grant that my heart may burn in the love of Christ my God, that I may greatly please Him. Sancta Mater, istud agas, Crucifixi fige plagas cordi meo valide. Holy Mother, may you do thus: place the wounds of the Crucified deep in my heart. Fac ut portem Christi mortem, passionis fac consortem, et plagas recolere. Make me to bear Christ's death, sharing in His passion, and commemorate his wounds. Inflammatus et accensus per te, Virgo, sim defensus in die iudicii. Inflame and set on fire, may I be defended by you, Virgin, on the day of judgment. Fac me cruce custodiri morte Christi praemuniri confoveri gratia. Let me be guarded by the cross, armed by Christ's death and His cherished by His grace. Quando corpus morietur, fac ut animæ donetur Paradisi gloria. Amen. When my body dies, grant that to my soul is given the glory of paradise. Amen. © Hans van der Velden 13th century Franciscan hymn WE COME
by Steve Bell Our hearts are empty without You Barren and cold But for the bold Hope that You Yourself Planted within In the mighty name of God In the saving name of Jesus In the strong name of the Spirit We come We cry We watch We wait We look We long for you Sometimes we long for the morning For a refrain From etchings in pain Yet our loneliness Draws us to You "the time of the singing of birds is come." |
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A wee explanation: this website was created as a way to amplify the daily surprise of seeing glory in one small life. The notebook entries represented here are all selected from things actually lived and noted on paper in an effort to live the full life British educator Charlotte Mason so ably championed.
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