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What did Christ really do? He hung out with hard-drinking fishermen.

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Oxymoron

Oxymoron:
fresh fish

*********


JBO:

'The beach at Sanibel... an Arlington Cemetery of shells.'
*
Every suffocated or strangled fish is first given
waterboarding sensations.
*
Fishes more frequently than
mammals or birds are cut open
alive, while their eyes watch
the knifing of others and their
gills struggle for absent air.

Fish cannot scream.
Greed for suffocated fish flesh causes seals to be clubbed in Canada, Norway, S Africa etc., dolphins to be knifed in Japan, whales to be murdered by
Norwegian Japanese Icelandic and American Inuit fishermen, bears
to be murdered in Alaska, untold thousands of fishermen to
be lost in tsunamis,700 Bangladesh fishermen lost in just 1 storm, Thai fishermen working for slave wages, tens of millions around
the world to die of stomach cancer, food poisoning etc.**


What's in fish? unreported Mad Fish
Disease, nuclear toxins a million
times more concentrated than in
sea water, AIDS from unprocessed
human waste dumped into
the oceans, hepatitis, anaphylactic shock, ecoli,
and other food poisoning,
throat, stomach and other cancers,
mercury, lead, cadmium, arsenic, pbb's, pcb's, thousands
of carcinogenic industrial waste products, and heavy metal sired
brain damage, pfiesteria (red tide) which poisons the fishes

FISH CAN'T SCREAM, FISH TOXINS, FISH STORIES

Are all anglers stranglers?


Dick Gregory: Eating fish liver oil is like eating the filter out of a car.

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Hung Up On You

Orbison/melson
Hooked on the touch of your hand, high on how you understand
Lost when you whispered hello ,something in your eyes said dont go
I just had to stay, couldnt go away from you, you knew what to do to get me
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you
You knew, the first time we met that I could never forget
You held me so close to you, I could never get over you
You were so aware how to make me care and keep me
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you
Yeah, you got me where you wanted me, I am where I really want to be
Hung up,hung up,hung up on you
Im so hung up on you that I dont know what I would do without you
Oh it will take me forever to get enough of you and I cant help it if im
Hung up on you,hung up on you,hung up on you baby,hung up on you
Hung up on you,hung up on you...

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Justin

DEDICATION

O POOR, sad hearts that struggle on and wait,
Like shipwrecked sailors on a spar at sea,
Through deepening glooms, if haply, soon or late,
Some day-dawn glimmer of what is to be,
Not knowing Christ, nor gladdened by His Love
5
And Life indwelling—to you I dedicate
These humble musings, praying that from above,
On you, being faithful found, the light may shine
Of Life incarnate and of Love divine.
Take, then, these thoughts, in loving memory
10
Of those dead hearts that brought it first to me.

DOWN by the sea, in infinite solitude
And wrapt in darkness, save when gleams of light
Broke from the moon aslant the hurrying clouds
That fled the wind, lay Justin, worn with grief,
And heart-sick with vain searching after God.

15
He heeded not the cold white foam that crept
In silence round his feet, nor the tall sedge
That sighed like lonely forest round his head;
His heart was weary of this weight of being,
Weary of all the mystery of life,
20
Weary of all the littleness of men,
And the dark riddle that he could not solve—
Why men should be, why pain and sin and death,
And where were hid the lineaments of God.
No voice was near. Behind, a lofty cape,
25
Whose iron face was scarred by many a storm,
Loomed threatening in the dark, and cleft the main,
And laid its giant hand upon the deep.
One grizzled oak tree crowned it, and the surf
Broke ever at its base, with ceaseless voice
30
Powerless to mar its silent majesty.
Sweet was the loneliness to Justin, sweet
Perturbèd nature, as in harmony
With the dark thoughts that beat upon his soul.
Nor speechless long he lay. The tide of grief,
35

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Edgar Lee Masters

Ballad Of Jesus Of Nazareth

I.

It matters not what place he drew
At first life's mortal breath,
Some say it was in Bethlehem,
And some in Nazareth.
But shame and sorrow were his lot
And shameful was his death.

The angels sang, and o'er the barn
Wherein the infant lay,
They hung a star, for they foresaw
The sad world's better day,
But well God knew what thyme and rue
Were planted by his way.

The children of the Pharisees
In hymn and orison
Worshipped the prophets, whom their sires
To cruel death had done,
And said, 'had we been there their death
We had not looked upon.'

While the star shone the angels saw
The tombs these children built
For those the world had driven out,
And smitten to the hilt,
God knew these wretched sons would bear
The self-same bloody guilt.

Always had he who strives for men
But done some other thing,
If he had not led a hermit life,
Or had not had his fling,
We would have followed him, they say,
And made him lord and King.

For John was clothed in camel's hair
And lived among the brutes;
But Jesus fared where the feast was spread
To the sound of shawms and lutes,
Where gathered knaves and publicans
And hapless prostitutes.

Like children in the market place
Who sullen sat and heard,
With John they would not mourn, nor yet
Rejoice at Jesus' word;
Had Jesus mourned, or John rejoiced,
He had been King and lord.

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Ridiculous

Skillfully tested, rhythmically possessed with rhymes
And when it was time, jah gave me the mic after he blessed it
He said share the loving, prepare them for the second coming
Beware of the false prophets, because they got my people buggn
Put on the full armor, cause you know these fools theyre gonna wanna
Talk behind your back, but stay away from the drama
You know that Im gonna keep you safe inside the palm of my hand
Cause you the man and thats word to your mama
So give it to em, its themselves that theyre fooln
Gotta head of the game too quick, what they lack is ol schooln
You know whos who, whether or not Im talking to your crew
Its up to you to keep it true, nuff respect due.
Chorus (x2):
Dem test me crew, but dem cant get with this
Dem all the same, talking wickedness (nonsense c 2nd time)
Your styles been played, and Im already sick of it
Them so ridiculous, them so ridiculous.
Original rude boy, we bring the styles
Aint heard this in a while, check the stats, review my profile
They dime a dozen, cant understand why all the fussn
Known for talking loud but they really saying nothing
With every word you poison my mental concept
Negative be the topic, somebodys got to stop it
And clear your mind and continue to come alive
And he love, we love, bring it back, come, rewind.
Chorus
To all my peoples that be keeping it real
They know the time and they know the deal
To all my peoples that are down with this crew
We keep it live cause this ones for you
Chorus
Christ
Youre not who they say you are
They made you the enemy
(christ-jah flesh; christ-light within; christ- beginning and the end)
Taken something so beautiful
Painted a new picture that makes me sick
(christ-witness; christ-living one; christ-first and the last)
Feed our minds confusion
Sweeten the taste of pollution.
(christ-word life; christ-resurrect; christ-everlasting jah)
Chorus:
Some people call you father
Maybe you could set me free
These people hate each other
But youve always been there for me
I refuse to be like you
Without life, caving in
(christ-jah flesh; christ-light within; christ- beginning and the end)
I surrender, giving up all that is me

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Hard Rock Kid

(tom lang/additional lyrics by myles goodwyn & mike stone)
Published by goody two tunes, inc./additional publishers - bmi
The boy inside the man, looks hard into the night
The neighborhood cant get to sleep
The stereo is playing something hard and fast
The boy is tough, he plays for keeps
No ones gonna tell him hes too wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
In the shadows, theres a heart thats beating strong
And through the night, he feels the heat
Hes like a stranger as he dances on the stage
Hes made a promise that he cant keep
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a hungry child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a fine line, its a hard time, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
She watches as he turns, pretending not to care
And yet she knows the way he feels
The need for love so strong, together they can win
For now the musics all thats real
But no ones gonna tell the boy hes wild
Everybody knows hes a problem child
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Its a hard time, its a fine line, for a hard rock kid
Hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock, hes a hard rock kid (kid)
Leave him alone, hes in a hard rock zone

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Christ at Carnival

THE hand of carnival was at my door,
I listened to its knocking, and sped down:
Faith was forgotten, Duty led no more:
I heard a wonton revelry in the town;
The Carnival ran in my veins like fire!
And some unfrustrable desire
Goaded me on to catch the roses thrown
From breast to breast, and with my own
Fugitive kiss to snatch the fugitive kiss;
I broke all faith for this
One wild and worthless hour,
To dance, to run, to beckon, as a flower
Maddens the bee with half-surrendering,
Then flies back in the air with petals shut.

Fainting with laughter and pursuit
I heard shrill winds leap out and sink again,
Tracking the green bed where the Spring hath lain,
And vanished from, whose feet made audible
Music among the tall trees on the hill.
Above me leaned a nightingale
Burdened and big with song, whose throat let fall
Long notes, so poignant and so musical,
I deemed his young mate, listening,
Heard him less passionately sing
Than I a-foot at Carnival!

Above the town, swart Night came rolling in
Upon her couch of heliotrope:
A new Moon, young and thin,
Lay like a Columbine
Teasing the spent hill, her old Harlequin,
She, who of late waned on the bitter sky,
Furtive and old, a woman without hope,
Begging in long-familiar streets, where Sin
Once seeking her, now shuddered and went by.

Caught in the meshes of a merry throng,
I stumbled through the lighted Market Place;
The lanterns swung an undetermined rose
In Night's convulsive face
As we were swept along
In crazy dance and song,--
On through the mirth-mad alleys of the town,
With shrill loud laughter tumbled roughly down,
Whirled up in swift embrace.
All, all went swinging, swaying in the revel,
Laughing and reeling, kissing each and all--
A crowd that wildest jesting did dishevel--
O mad night of Carnival!

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Portrait

Youre not who they say you are
They made you the enemy
(christ-jah flesh; christ-light within; christ- beginning and the end)
Taken something so beautiful
Painted a new picture that makes me sick
(christ-witness; christ-living one; christ-first and the last)
Feed our minds confusion
Sweeten the taste of pollution.
(christ-word life; christ-resurrect; christ-everlasting jah)
Chorus:
Some people call you father
Maybe you could set me free
These people hate each other
But youve always been there for me
I refuse to be like you
Without life, caving in
(christ-jah flesh; christ-light within; christ- beginning and the end)
I surrender, giving up all that is me
Yielding to you
(christ-witness; christ-living one; christ-first and the last)
Shape me in my brokeness
Empower me forever
(christ-word life; christ-resurrect; christ-everlasting jah)
Chorus
Outro:
I know you will complete this work started in me
I need you more than ever now that I know who you are
I know you will complete this work started in me
I need you more than ever now that Ive come so far

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They Hung Him On A Cross (Demo, 1989)

They hung him of a cross
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
They whooped him up the hill
They whooped him up the hill
They whooped him up the hill for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They whooped him up the hill for me
He never said among them would
They never said among them would
They never said among them would for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
They hurt him in the side
They bit him in the side
They bit him in the side for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
They hung his head and died
They hung his head and died
He hung his head and died for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
Originally by Leadbelly

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Its Hard

Any tough can fight - few can play
Any tough can fight - few can play
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any fool can fall - few can lay
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Any stud can reproduce - few can please
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Anyone can pay - few can lease
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any man can claim - few can find
Any man can claim - few can find
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Any girl can blink - few can lie
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can promise - few can raise
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Anyone can try - but a few can stay
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any brain can hide - few can stand
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any kid can fly - few can land
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any gang can scatter - few can form
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Any kid can chatter - few can inform
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so very hard
Its hard
Its hard
(its a hard hard hand to hold
(its a hard hard hand to hold
Its a hard land to control)
Its a hard land to control)
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any soul can sleep - few can die
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Any wimp can weep - few can cry
Everyone complains - few can state
Everyone complains - few can state
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Anyone can stop - few can wait
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Its hard - its very very very very hard - so hard
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card
Anyone can do anything if they hold the right card

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Insomnia

Reading magazines and counting sheep to pass the time away
Hoping that tomorrows gonna bring a smile home again
Images of palm trees swaying in the wind on south beach
Takes me back to better days, summer days the everglades in june
My brain, my poor brain
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia
Flying high in golden skies, Im flicking channels in my mind
Finding my utopia a different chapter in a book
Thinking back to younger days as I escape in coopers break
It takes me back to 84 the futures knocking at my door
My brain, my poor brain
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia
Turning off a switch inside me, leaving all the stress behind me
Flying over streams and houses, passing over the wye valley
It takes me back to 84 the futures knocking at my door
My brain, my poor brain
Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia Im drinking myself to sleep again, nightnurse pills to keep me sane
Drinking myself to sleep again, insomnia.

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Zachaeus Upon The Sycamore Tree

Many of us have heard of Christ;
Some of us know Jesus so well;
Christ is always passing by nigh;
Should we not have a better glimpse?

By heart, we yearn to see Jesus;
We are all sinners in more ways;
Our ears await His loving call;
By spirit, we stay short for Christ!

God sees each human heart in depth;
He knows if it has love or hate;
He gives us chances for more faith;
Sometimes, He comes to us to speak.

A Sycamore helps us see Christ;
There are such trees by every lane;
But we must climb to see Christ well;
The Lord knows secrets of each heart!

Many in sins galore do lie;
Many do have a contrite heart;
For repentance to turn complete,
Penance must be in matching ways!

Why put off seeing Jesus Christ?
The Son of God came for sinners!
Just ask and He will surely come;
Search and you will find Him surely.

Christ longs to dine in each one's home;
He forgives sins by Cross' ease;
He changes lives once and for all;
Must not we reconcile with God?

'Tis easy climbing sycamores!
'Tis easy finding one such tree;
It helps to see Jesus clearly!
Why should we hesitate to climb?

Ignore the world that talks like fools!
Each soul must gain God's redemption;
Let's plead to God for forgiveness;
Let's fill heart with God's saving grace!

There is a price for redemption;
Jesus paid our ransom ahead;
We must walk in His righteous path;
We must enter the narrow gate!

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Give Your Heart To The Hawks

1 he apples hung until a wind at the equinox,

That heaped the beach with black weed, filled the dry grass

Under the old trees with rosy fruit.

In the morning Fayne Fraser gathered the sound ones into a

basket,

The bruised ones into a pan. One place they lay so thickly
She knelt to reach them.

Her husband's brother passing
Along the broken fence of the stubble-field,
His quick brown eyes took in one moving glance
A little gopher-snake at his feet flowing through the stubble
To gain the fence, and Fayne crouched after apples
With her mop of red hair like a glowing coal
Against the shadow in the garden. The small shapely reptile
Flowed into a thicket of dead thistle-stalks
Around a fence-post, but its tail was not hidden.
The young man drew it all out, and as the coil
Whipped over his wrist, smiled at it; he stepped carefully
Across the sag of the wire. When Fayne looked up
His hand was hidden; she looked over her shoulder
And twitched her sunburnt lips from small white teeth
To answer the spark of malice in his eyes, but turned
To the apples, intent again. Michael looked down
At her white neck, rarely touched by the sun,
But now the cinnabar-colored hair fell off from it;
And her shoulders in the light-blue shirt, and long legs like a boy's
Bare-ankled in blue-jean trousers, the country wear;
He stooped quietly and slipped the small cool snake
Up the blue-denim leg. Fayne screamed and writhed,
Clutching her thigh. 'Michael, you beast.' She stood up
And stroked her leg, with little sharp cries, the slender invader
Fell down her ankle.

Fayne snatched for it and missed;


Michael stood by rejoicing, his rather small

Finely cut features in a dance of delight;

Fayne with one sweep flung at his face

All the bruised and half-spoiled apples in the pan,

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The Ancient Banner

In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,
The bosom of his Father, and assumed
A servant's form, though he had reigned a king,
In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,
Or the creating words, 'Let there be light'
In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,
His Deity and his Omnipotence,
Were manifest in miracles. Disease
Fled at his bidding, and the buried dead
Rose from the sepulchre, reanimate,
At his command, or, on the passing bier
Sat upright, when he touched it. But he came,
Not for this only, but to introduce
A glorious dispensation, in the place
Of types and shadows of the Jewish code.
Upon the mount, and round Jerusalem,
He taught a purer, and a holier law,—
His everlasting Gospel, which is yet
To fill the earth with gladness; for all climes
Shall feel its influence, and shall own its power.
He came to suffer, as a sacrifice
Acceptable to God. The sins of all
Were laid upon Him, when in agony
He bowed upon the cross. The temple's veil
Was rent asunder, and the mighty rocks,
Trembled, as the incarnate Deity,
By his atoning blood, opened that door,
Through which the soul, can have communion with
Its great Creator; and when purified,
From all defilements, find acceptance too,
Where it can finally partake of all
The joys of His salvation.
But the pure Church he planted,—the pure Church
Which his apostles watered,—and for which,
The blood of countless martyrs freely flowed,
In Roman Amphitheatres,—on racks,—
And in the dungeon's gloom,—this blessed Church,
Which grew in suffering, when it overspread
Surrounding nations, lost its purity.
Its truth was hidden, and its light obscured
By gross corruption, and idolatry.
As things of worship, it had images,
And even painted canvas was adored.
It had a head and bishop, but this head
Was not the Saviour, but the Pope of Rome.
Religion was a traffic. Men defiled,
Professed to pardon sin, and even sell,
The joys of heaven for money,—and to raise
Souls out of darkness to eternal light,
For paltry silver lavished upon them.

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Easter Day (Naples, 1849)

Through the great sinful streets of Naples as I past,
With fiercer heat than flamed above my head
My heart was hot within me; till at last
My brain was lightened, when my tongue had said
Christ is not risen!

Christ is not risen, no,
He lies and moulders low;
Christ is not risen.

What though the stone were rolled away, and though
The grave found empty there?
If not there, then elsewhere;
If not where Joseph laid Him first, why then
Where other men
Translaid Him after; in some humbler clay
Long ere to-day
Corruption that sad perfect work hath done,
Which here she scarcely, lightly had begun.
The foul engendered worm
Feeds on the flesh of the life-giving form
Of our most Holy and Anointed One.

He is not risen, no,
He lies and moulders low;
Christ is not risen.

What if the women, ere the dawn was grey,
Saw one or more great angels, as they say,
(Angels, or Him himself)? Yet neither there, nor then,
Nor afterward, nor elsewhere, nor at all,
Hath He appeared to Peter or the Ten;
Nor, save in thunderous terror, to blind Saul;
Save in an after-Gospel and late Creed
He is not risen indeed,
Christ is not risen.

Or what if e’en, as runs the tale, the Ten
Saw, heard, and touched, again and yet again?
What if at Emmaüs’ inn and by Capernaum’s Lake
Came One the bread that brake
Came One that spake as never mortal spake,
And with them ate and drank and stood and walked about?
Ah! ‘some’ did well to ‘doubt’!
Ah! the true Christ, while these things came to pass,
Nor heard, nor spake, nor walked, nor dreamt, alas!
He was not risen, no
He lay and moulder low,
Christ was not risen.

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They Hung Him On A Cross

They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
They whooped him up the hill
They whooped him up the hill for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They whooped him up the hill for me
They never said among them would
They never said among them would for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
They bit him in the side
They bit him in the side for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me
They hung his head and died
We hung his head and died for me
One day when I lost
They hung him on a cross
They hung him on a cross for me

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The Ballad Of Ira Hayes

Gather round you people and a story I will tell
About a brave young indian you should remember well
From the tribe of pima indians, a proud and a peaceful band
They farmed the phoenix valley in arizona land
Down their ditches for a thousand years the sparkling water rushed
Till their white man stole their water rights and the running water hushed
Now iras folks were hungry and their farms wene crops of weeds
But when war came he volunteers and forgot, the white mans greed
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
They started up iwo jima hill, 250 men
But only 27 lived to walk back down that hill again
And when the fight was over and the old glory raised
One of the men who held it high was the indian ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Now ira returned a hero, celebrated throughout the land
He was wined and speeched and honored, everybody shook his hand
But he was just a pima indian, no money crops, no chance
And at home nobody cared what ira had done and the wind did the indians
Dance
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
And ira started drinking hard, jail was often his home
They let him raise the flag there and lower it like youd throw a dog a bone
He died drunk early one morning, alone in the land he had fought to save
Two inches of water in a lonely ditch was the grave for ira hayes
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, but his land is still as dry
And his ghost is lying thirsty in the ditch where ira died
Call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war
Yes, call him, drunken ira hayes, he wont answer anymore
Not the whiskey-drinking indian or the marine who went to war.

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Christmas-Eve

I.
OUT of the little chapel I burst
Into the fresh night air again.
I had waited a good five minutes first
In the doorway, to escape the rain
That drove in gusts down the common’s centre,
At the edge of which the chapel stands,
Before I plucked up heart to enter:
Heaven knows how many sorts of hands
Reached past me, groping for the latch
Of the inner door that hung on catch,
More obstinate the more they fumbled,
Till, giving way at last with a scold
Of the crazy hinge, in squeezed or tumbled
One sheep more to the rest in fold,
And left me irresolute, standing sentry
In the sheepfold’s lath-and-plaster entry,
Four feet long by two feet wide,
Partitioned off from the vast inside—
I blocked up half of it at least.
No remedy; the rain kept driving:
They eyed me much as some wild beast,
The congregation, still arriving,
Some of them by the mainroad, white
A long way past me into the night,
Skirting the common, then diverging;
Not a few suddenly emerging
From the common’s self thro’ the paling-gaps,—
—They house in the gravel-pits perhaps,
Where the road stops short with its safeguard border
Of lamps, as tired of such disorder;—
But the most turned in yet more abruptly
From a certain squalid knot of alleys,
Where the town’s bad blood once slept corruptly,
Which now the little chapel rallies
And leads into day again,—its priestliness
Lending itself to hide their beastliness
So cleverly (thanks in part to the mason),
And putting so cheery a whitewashed face on
Those neophytes too much in lack of it,
That, where you cross the common as I did,
And meet the party thus presided,
“Mount Zion,” with Love-lane at the back of it,
They front you as little disconcerted,
As, bound for the hills, her fate averted
And her wicked people made to mind him,
Lot might have marched with Gomorrah behind him.

II.
Well, from the road, the lanes or the common,

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Gotham - Book I

Far off (no matter whether east or west,
A real country, or one made in jest,
Nor yet by modern Mandevilles disgraced,
Nor by map-jobbers wretchedly misplaced)
There lies an island, neither great nor small,
Which, for distinction sake, I Gotham call.
The man who finds an unknown country out,
By giving it a name, acquires, no doubt,
A Gospel title, though the people there
The pious Christian thinks not worth his care
Bar this pretence, and into air is hurl'd
The claim of Europe to the Western world.
Cast by a tempest on the savage coast,
Some roving buccaneer set up a post;
A beam, in proper form transversely laid,
Of his Redeemer's cross the figure made--
Of that Redeemer, with whose laws his life,
From first to last, had been one scene of strife;
His royal master's name thereon engraved,
Without more process the whole race enslaved,
Cut off that charter they from Nature drew,
And made them slaves to men they never knew.
Search ancient histories, consult records,
Under this title the most Christian lords
Hold (thanks to conscience) more than half the ball;
O'erthrow this title, they have none at all;
For never yet might any monarch dare,
Who lived to Truth, and breathed a Christian air,
Pretend that Christ, (who came, we all agree,
To bless his people, and to set them free)
To make a convert, ever one law gave
By which converters made him first a slave.
Spite of the glosses of a canting priest,
Who talks of charity, but means a feast;
Who recommends it (whilst he seems to feel
The holy glowings of a real zeal)
To all his hearers as a deed of worth,
To give them heaven whom they have robb'd of earth;
Never shall one, one truly honest man,
Who, bless'd with Liberty, reveres her plan,
Allow one moment that a savage sire
Could from his wretched race, for childish hire,
By a wild grant, their all, their freedom pass,
And sell his country for a bit of glass.
Or grant this barbarous right, let Spain and France,
In slavery bred, as purchasers advance;
Let them, whilst Conscience is at distance hurl'd,
With some gay bauble buy a golden world:
An Englishman, in charter'd freedom born,
Shall spurn the slavish merchandise, shall scorn

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He’s Done So Much For Me

The Lord has done so much for me, and He started it upon a tree,
Where Christ Jesus was crucified, when for all of our sins He died.
But from the grave He rose again, and became Hope for all men.
The resurrection of Jesus Christ, is the hope of all for Eternal Life.
He appeared to men as God’s proof, validating The Word of Truth.
And The Truth has set me free, from Christ’s work upon that tree.

He sent The Spirit upon the earth, to guide all men to a new birth.
Through The Spirit He teaches us, Eternal Truths men can trust.
He guides me every day my friend, with His promise for the end,
A promised home prepared for me, to dwell with Him for Eternity.
Christ is always by my side, supplying a peace that’s not denied.
Christ’s sent Eternal Peace, sealed by The Spirit, shall not cease.

Christ ascended to His Authority, His Throne above for all Eternity,
There Christ intervenes for those, who believed and know He rose.
When He ascended to His Throne, Christ left me not here all alone,
He sent The Spirit into my heart, who then gave my life a new start.
To me The Holy Spirit He did impart, who now lives within my heart.
He goes with me along the way, to guide and protect me every day.

Friend it was for me that Jesus Christ, became an atoning sacrifice.
He was a bloody sacrifice of Love, pleasing to His Father up above.
Christ was mocked and crowned, and he was buried in the ground.
Where all my sins were buried too, no longer in The Father’s view.
Christ lived and died on my behalf, so that I would not suffer wrath.
Instead it will be life ahead for me, as I reign with Christ for eternity.

He bestows upon me His Power, through each day and every hour.
In my weakness His Power flows, as His Strength within me grows.
His Strength He always gives to me, whether in riches or in poverty.
For all my riches are in Jesus Christ, not in this temporal fleeting life.
Eternal Riches are found in Him, Christ who saved me from my sin.
Christ alone is my Eternal Reward, thus I end with Thank You Lord.

(Copyright ©11/2005)

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