Contentment

Contentment

(Phillipians, iv.11)

Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea,
But calm, content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to Thee.

In vain by reason and by rule
We try to bend the will;
For none but in the Saviour's school
Can learn the heavenly skill.

Since at His feet my soul has sate,
His gracious words to hear,
Contented with my present state,
I cast on Him my care.

"Art thou a sinner, soul?" He said,
"Then how canst thou complain?
How light thy troubles here, if weigh'd
With everlasting pain!

"If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured,
Compare thy griefs with mine!
Think what my love for thee endured,
And thou wilt not repine.

"'Tis I appoint thy daily lot,
And I do all things well;
Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot,
And rise with me to dwell.

"In life my grace shall strength supply,
Proportion'd to thy day;
At death thou still shalt find me nigh,
To wipe thy tears away."

Thus I, who once my wretched days
In vain repinings spent,
Taught in my Saviour's school of grace,
Have learnt to be content.

William Cowper

The Children's Song

Occasionally we'll come across a poem in our Poem-A-Day, that is special and then it's just too hard not to share it. While we love so many, it's the surprises that delight. This one today had that affect. (Emphasis mine.)

The Children's Song

(from Puck of Pook's Hill)

Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee
Our love and toil in the years to be;
When we are grown and take our place
As men and women with our race.

Father in Heaven who lovest all,
Oh, help Thy children when they call;
That they may build from age to age
An undefiled heritage.

Teach us to bear the yoke in youth,
With steadfastness and careful truth;
That, in our time, Thy Grace may give
The Truth whereby the Nations live.

Teach us to rule ourselves alway,
Controlled and cleanly night and day;
That we may bring, if need arise,
No maimed or worthless sacrifice.

Teach us to look in all our ends
On Thee for judge, and not our friends;
That we, with Thee, may walk uncowed
By fear or favour of the crowd.

Teach us the Strength that cannot seek,
By deed or thought, to hurt the weak;
That, under Thee, we may possess
Man's strength to comfort man's distress.

Teach us Delight in simple things,
And Mirth that has no bitter springs;
Forgiveness free of evil done,
And Love to all men 'neath the sun!

Land of our Birth, our faith, our pride,
For whose dear sake our fathers died;
Oh, Motherland, we pledge to thee
Head, heart and hand through the years to be!

Daughter's 1st Poem

Today my 5yo daughter wrote her first poem. This is 100% contributed to the fact that we read poetry every single day during the week. She started to tell me this poem and I could hear the meter in her voice imitating the poets she's heard. We had just read a living math book with a beautiful picture of a moon shining on the ocean at night. This was what she said:

The sunlight shines on the morning sea.
The sea waked up and did the waves.
And the little girls two, played around the sand
and they heard the sound of the sea.
When it got darker and darker, they saw the moon shine on the sea
and that was when they went [goed] back to the hotel.

Shamefully, I did help her correct her grammar in the last line as we've been conquering (repeatedly!) "goed" vs "went". With a gentle reminder, she actually corrected herself, so that is why I included the correct word.

What Though the Radiance...

What though the radiance which was once so bright

Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind

Excerpt from: Ode: Intimations of Immortality
From Recollections of Early Childhood: X
By William Wordsworth

James Whitcomb Riley Home

We finally made it to one of the James Whitcomb Riley Homes in Indiana.

We had so much fun reading his poetry a few months back! What incredible storytelling coming through "the Hoosier Poet". Son proudly remembered this memory work:

On Any Ordinery Man in a High State of Laughtur and Delight

As its give' me to percieve,
I most certin'y believe
When a man's jest glad plum through,
God's pleased with him, same as you.

Shamefully, I didn't get a picture of the whole house--what was I thinking?! However, I did get these outdoor pictures. It was very crowded indoors (free day!), and taking pictures was not prudent. I will say it was an amazing preservation of his home of 23+ years...that he didn't even own, but rented a room in...for 23+ years! Astounding. Apparently, in that day and age (around the turn of the century) a single man did not live alone for no respectable woman would come work for him. So they would take up residence in the homes of families they knew. This home, where he died in 1817, was only preserved as the owners had no children to pass it on to. We really enjoyed the tour and I purchased a beautiful hardbound, illustrated copy of "The Raggedy Man"! Love it.

My two kids are the two farthest on each side.

This poem (that was apparently turned into a song at some point) of his adorned the walls outside the bedrooms:

The Perfect Prayer

Dear Lord! kind Lord!
Gracious Lord! I pray
Thou wilt look on all I love,
Tenderly to-day!
Weed their hearts of weariness;
Scatter every care
Down a wake of angel-wings
Winnowing the air.

Bring unto the sorrowing
All release from pain;
Let the lips of laughter
Overflow again;
And with all the needy
O divide, I pray,
This vast treasure of content
That is mine to-day!

I'm sure we'll eventually get to his other home (his childhood home) which is not too far from some friends house. His grave is also in town, so when the weather permits, we should probably go there too...just for fun...'cause cemetaries are fun...right?!! :)

Spring in Indiana: James Whitcomb Riley

If you ever wandered what spring is like in Indiana, then reading "The First Bluebird", by James Whitcomb Riley will nail it on the head for you! The Hoosier Poet knew the place that he wrote about, as every good poet should. Riley is our current Poem-A-Day poet and we are thoroughly enjoying his style and subject matter. It's as if he wrote these poems just for us! I can almost hear my own Grandfather's voice in the Indiana vernacular of old.

The First Bluebird
by James Whitcomb Riley

Jest rain and snow! and rain again!

And dribble! drip! and blow!

Then snow! and thaw! and slush! and then

Some more rain and snow!

This morning I was'most afeard

To wake upwhen, I jing!

I seen the sun shine out and heerd

The first bluebird of Spring!

Mother she'd raised the winder some;

And in acrost the orchurd come,

Soft as a angel's wing,

A breezy, treesy, beesy hum,

Too sweet fer anything!

The winter's shroud was rent a-part

The sun bust forth in glee,

And when that bluebird sung, my hart

Hopped out o' bed with me!