Godliness with Contentment is Great Gain

Heart's-Ease

by Amy Carmichael

Oh, there was never a blossom 

That bloomed so blithe as she,

On the bitter land, by the salt-wet sand,

On the margin of the sea.

Where never a flower but the gorse can blow,

And the dry sea-pink that the mermen sow, 

There grows she.

Oh, there was never a blossom

That bloomed so brave as she, 

On the narrow ledge of the mountain's edge

Where the wild fowl hardly be.

And over her head the Four Seasons go

With a rush of wings when the Storm Kings blow-

There grows she.

Oh, there was never a blossom 

That bloomed content as she,

In the heart that burned, and loved and learned

Of the Man of Galilee. 

And plant her high, or plant her low, 

In bed of fire, or a field of snow, 

There grows she. 

Wendell Berry and A Sabbath Mood

The Angelus, by Jean-Francois Millet

 

 

Whatever is foreseen in joy
Must be lived out from day to day.
Vision held open in the dark
By our ten thousand days of work.

 

The hand must ache, the face must sweat.
And yet no leaf or grain is filled
By work of ours; the field is tilled

And left to grace. That we may reap,

Great work is done while we’re asleep.
When we work well, a Sabbath mood
Rests on our day, and finds it good.

 

-Wendell Berry, 1979, no. X

I read this poem a few years back on the blog that takes its title from this same poem. I was struck by the beauty and realism in this poem for us homeschooling families. We work hard and yet the growth is up to God. It is to Him we look. Yet we don't leave the fields unplowed. Indeed, "the hand must ache, the face must sweat." But it is God who gives the increase as the Apostle Paul says in his letter to the Corinthians. We are not in this alone and that should give us great comfort.

*************

A few weeks ago, in the library, I came across a book of poetry by Wendell Berry. I was eager to read it because of my experience with the above poem. So I have been reading my way through it and then this week I came across an article, on The Gospel Coalition, about our need for Wendell Berry's perspective on nurturing as opposed to exploitation. Read it here: https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/wendell-berry-and-the-revitalized-pastor

Wanderers

 Wanderers

by Walter de la Mare

 

Wide are the meadows of night,

And daisies are shining there,

Tossing their lovely dews,

Lustrous and fair; 

 

And through these sweet fields go,

Wanderers amid the stars --

Venus, Mercury, Uranus, Neptune,

Saturn, Jupiter, Mars.

 'Tired in their silver, they move,

And circling, whisper and say,

Fair are the blossoming meads of delight

Through which we stray.

Poetry Study-Langston Hughes

Mother to Son

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

 

Springtime in the Rockies

Written In March -
by William Wordsworth

The cock is crowing,
The stream is flowing,
The small birds twitter,
The lake doth glitter
The green field sleeps in the sun;
The oldest and youngest
Are at work with the strongest;
The cattle are grazing,
Their heads never raising;
There are forty feeding like one!

Like an army defeated
The snow hath retreated,
And now doth fare ill
On the top of the bare hill;
The plowboy is whooping- anon-anon:
There's joy in the mountains;
There's life in the fountains;
Small clouds are sailing,
Blue sky prevailing;
The rain is over and gone!

NO SCAR

By Amy Carmichael

Hast thou no scar?
No hidden scar on foot, or side, or hand?
I hear thee sung as mighty in the land;
I hear them hail thy bright, ascendant star.
Hast thou no scar?

Hast thou no wound?
Yet I was wounded by the archers; spent,
Leaned me against a tree to die, and rent
By ravening beasts that compassed Me, I swooned.
Hast thou no wound?

No wound? No scar?
Yet, as the Master shall the servant be,
And pierced are the feet that follow Me.
But thine are whole; can he have followed far
Who has nor wound nor scar?

God of Hope

By Amy Carmichael

Great God of Hope, how green Thy trees,
How calm each several star.

Renew us; make us fresh as these,
Calm as those are.

For what can dim his hope who sees,
Though faintly and afar,

The power that kindles green in trees
And light in star?

Even As A Weaned Child

By Amy Carmichael

And shall I pray Thee change Thy will, my Father,
Until it be according unto mine?
But no, Lord, no, that never shall be; rather,
I pray Thee, blend my human will with Thine.

I pray Thee, hush the hurrying, eager longing;
I pray Thee, soothe the pangs of keen desire;
See in my quiet places wishes thronging;
Forbid them, Lord; purge, though it be with fire.

And work in me to will and do Thy pleasure;
Let all within me, peaceful, reconciled,
Tarry, content my Well-beloved's leisure-
At last, at last, even as a weaned child.

Until The Stars Appear

by Amy Carmichael

Make us Thy laborers.
Let us not dream of ever looking back;
Let not our knees be feeble, hands be slack;
Oh, make us strong to labor , strong to bear,
From the rising of the morning until the stars appear.

Make us Thy warriors,
On whom Thou canst depend to stand the brunt
Of any perilous charge on any front;
Give to us the skill to handle sword and spear,
From the rising of the morning until the stars appear.

Not far from us, those stars-
Unseen as angels, and yet looking through
The quiet air, the day's transparent blue.
What shall we know, and feel, and see, and hear,
When the sunset colors kindle and evening stars appear?

His Faithfulness

By Amy Carmichael

O wind of God, blow through the trees;
O birds of God, come sing your song;
For now I know the joy that frees,
The joy that makes the weakest strong.

The vapors march in shining crowds,
High in the trackless roads of air;
I look, and lo, unto the clouds,
His faithfulness is even there!

Pass foolish fears; the fresh winds blow;
O birds of God, come sing with me.
My God is faithful this I know;
My Father, I have all in Thee.

WE CONQUER BY HIS SONG

By Amy Carmichael

We see not yet all things put under Thee.
We see not yet the glory that shall be;
We see not yet, and yet by faith we see;
Alleluia, Alleluia.

We see the shadows gathering for flight,
The powers of dawn dispel the brooding night,
The steadfast march of the triumphant light;
Alleluia.

Be we in East or West, or North or South,
By wells of water or in land of drouth,
Lo, Thou hast put a new song in our mouth;
Alleluia.

Therefore we triumph; therefore we are strong,
Though vision tarry and the night be long;
For lifted up, we conquer by Thy song;
Alleluia.

THY JOHN

by Amy Carmichael

As John upon his dear Lord's breast,
So would I lean, so would I rest;
As empty shell in depths of sea,
So would I sink, be filled with Thee.

As water lily in her pool
Through long, hot hours is still and cool,
A thought of peace, so I would be
Thy water-flower, Lord, close by Thee.

As singing bird in high, blue air,
So would I soar, and sing Thee there;
No rain nor stormy wind can be
When all the air is full of Thee.

And so though daily duties crowd,
And dust of earth be like a cloud,
Through noise of words, O Lord, my Rest,
Thy John would lean upon Thy breast.

THE AGE-LONG MINUTE

By Amy Carmichael

Thou art the Lord who slept upon the pillow;

Thou art the Lord who soothed the furious sea;

What matter beating wind and tossing billow

If only we are in the boat with Thee?

Hold us in quiet through the age-long minute

While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill.

Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it?

Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?

Love through me, Love of God,

Make me like Thy clear air

Through which unhindered, colours pass

As though it were not there.

Powers of the love of God,

Depths of the heart Divine,

O Love that faileth not, break forth,

And flood this world of Thine.

by Amy Carmichael