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Posts Tagged ‘truth’

“Be calm in arguing; for fierceness makes error a fault, and truth discourtesy.”

 

“Dare to be true. Nothing can need a lie: a fault which needs it most, grows two thereby.”

 

“He that cannot forgive others, breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass if he would ever reach heaven; for everyone has need to be forgiven.”

 

“The devil divides the world between atheism and superstition.”

 

“He that is not handsome at 20, nor strong at 30, nor rich at 40, nor wise at 50, will never be handsome, strong, rich or wise.”

 

George Herbert died this date (3/1/1633) Bermerton, England.  He had been born 4/3/1593, Montgomery, Wales.

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“On the Late Late Massacre in Piedmont”

 

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;

Ev’n them who kept the truth so pure of old,

When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones,

Forget not: in thy book record their groans

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold

Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled

Mother with infant down the rocks.  Their moans

The vales redoubled to the hills, and they

To heav’n.  Their martyred blood and ashes sow

O’er all th’ Italian fields, where still doth sway

The triple Tyrant that from these may grow

A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way,

Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

 

John Milton, one of the greatest (if not the greatest) poet of England died 11/6/1674 in London.  He is best known for Paradise Lost (1667), Paradise Regained (1671) but this is a good sonnet of his.  Milton was a philosopher, hynmist, poet, and theologian. 

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Be dead to yourself and to your kind,

Be dead to this place called earth.

Be dead to its drink and food so fine,

Be dead to its sorrows and mirth.

Be dead to earth’s banks with their borrowed loans,

Be dead to the flash of gold.

Be dead to the wide range of entertainment,

Be dead to its tales, thrice told.

Be dead to big houses and lands, yea dead to tents as well.

Be dead to the call of fleshly sins, as Adam and Eve once fell.

Be dead to the titles of “doctor” and “sir,”

Be dead to awards from the rich.

Be dead to the pride such allurements bestir,

Be dead to their wild sale’s pitch.

And when you have died – “died out” to it all,

Died out to the crest and the trough,

Died out to fame’s loss – to its rise and fall,

Died out to all touched by moth,

Know that truth still lives and reigns,

Over all that men know false and fake,

And do all you do,

When out-of-view;

Do it all for Jesus’ sake. -eab, 12/2/07

 

 

Written at Westfield,Indiana

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