Usurper Antiochus IV Defiled First Temple In Jerusalem
Antiochus attacked defiled First Temple in Jerusalem
sacrificed a pig on holy altar erected a statue of Zeus
as himself in the temple raided sacred Temple treasury...
minted his 'Theos Epiphanes' God manifest coins
at Antioch silver tetradrachm of Antiochus IV struck
'Basileus Antiochus God Manifest Bearer of Victory'
'Basileus Antiochus translates 'The king made manifest'
'made manifest' implies the deification of Antiochus
face shown with radiate crown indicating aura of divinity...
Antiochus IV the 'little horn' of Daniel 8: 9? Banned
the traditional religion of the entire Jewish people?
Outlawed all sacred Jewish religious rites traditions?
Observant Jews were ordered to worship Olympian Zeus
as supreme god forbidden from keeping sacred Sabbath?
Forbidden from celebrating traditional feasts forbidden...
from admitting to be a Jew? Decree issued ordered Jews
to adopt Greek customs partake of Greek sacrifices
to put to death all Jews who would not publically consent?
Antiochus raging like a wild animal took Jerusalem
by storm 'ordered his soldiers to cut down without
mercy those whom they met and to slay those who took
refuge in their houses. There was a massacre of young
and old, a killing of women and children, a slaughter
of virgins and infants. In the space of three days, eighty
thousand were lost, forty thousand meeting a violent
death, and the same number being sold into slavery.'
Antiochus IV antichrist archetype prefigure antichrist!
2 Maccabees 5: 11-14.
Two Jewish women arrested for having circumcised sons
on prescribed eight day 'were publicly paraded about the city
with their babies hanging at their breasts then thrown down
from the top of the city wall'? Jews who assembled
in nearby caves to observe the sabbath in secret
were betrayed' all burned to death to enforce decree.
2 Maccabees 6: 1-11
Antiochus 'The Mad One' the first vile Seleucid
king to use divine epithets on his minted coins
to proclaim himself divinity god made manifest
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poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Saw It Myself (Short Verse Drama)
Dramatis Personae: Adrian, his wife Ester, his sisters Rebecca and Johanna, his mother Elizabeth, the high priest Chiapas, the disciple Simon Peter, the disciple John, Mary Magdalene, worshipers, priests, two angels and Jesus Christ.
Act I
Scene I.- Adrian’s house in Jerusalem. Adrian has just returned home after a business journey in Galilee, in time to attend the Passover feast. He sits at the table with his wife Ester and his sisters, Rebecca and Johanna. It’s just before sunset on the Friday afternoon.
Adrian. (Somewhat puzzled) Strange things are happening,
some say demons dwell upon the earth,
others angelic beings, miracles take place
and all of this when they had put a man to death,
had crucified a criminal. Everybody knows
the cross is used for degenerates only!
Rebecca. (With a pleasant voice) Such harsh words used,
for a good, a great man brother?
They say that without charge
he healed the sick, brought back sight,
cured leprosy, even made some more food,
from a few fishes and loafs of bread…
Adrian. (Somewhat harsh) They say many things!
That he rode into Jerusalem
to be crowned as the new king,
was a rebel against the state,
even claimed to be
the very Son of God,
now that is blasphemy
if there is no truth to it!
Johanna. I met him once.
He’s not the man
that you make him, brother.
There was a strange tranquilly to Him.
Some would say a divine presence,
while He spoke of love that is selfless,
visited the sick, the poor
and even the destitute, even harlots.
Adrian. (Looks up) There you have it!
Harlots! Tax collecting thieves!
A man is know by his friends,
or so they say and probably
there is some truth to it.
Ester. Husband, do not be so quick to judge.
I have seen Him myself, have seen
Roman soldiers marching Him to the hill
to take His life, with a angry crowd
following and mocking Him.
[...] Read more
poem by Gert Strydom
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Mosque of Omar and Jewish Temple
The Dome of the Rock was erected by the Muslim ruler Abd el-Malik in 688-691 A.D. It sits where the old Jewish temple mount was. The Roman General Titus destroyed the last Jewish temple around 70 A.D. This mosque is considered very sacred and would cause an international stir and possible war if it were destroyed.
The Jewish people begin to come back to their original homeland and after World War Two and the holocaust became the country of Israel again in 1948 under Jewish rule. They always have wanted to rebuild their temple. The city of Jerusalem went under their control during the six-day war in 1967. Jerusalem is a main point of any peace between Israel and the Palestinians. Everyone dealing with the volatile peace process in the world knows peace in the mid-east involves Jerusalem and the temple mount area.
Solomon’s Temple was the first temple built in Jerusalem and was completed around 953 BC and was destroyed by Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonians and burned with fire in 586 BC. Zerubbabel and the returning exiles built the second temple, completing it in 516 BC. This temple was later embellished greatly by King Herod and was the temple Jesus Christ was dedicated in and preached in. Titus and the Romans destroyed this Temple in 70 AD.
Scholars such as Asher Kauffman are now saying Solomon’s original temple and the second temple built by Zerubbabel after the 70 year captivity to Babylon was aligned with the Eastern Gate and the temple was north of the Dome of the Rock mosque.
The Eastern Gate was the gate the Lord Jesus came riding thru on a donkey or what many Christians call Palm Sunday. This gate is now closed. The Golden Gate (Eastern Gate) in the eastern wall of Jerusalem gave access to the courtyards of the temple from the Kidron valley. The East gate was walled up by its Muslim conquerors (the Ottoman Turks) with great stones in 1530 A.D. The Prophet Ezekiel by a vision seen the Eastern Gate shut…Ezekiel 44: 1-3 'Then he brought me back to the outer gate of the sanctuary, which faces east; and it was shut. And he said to me, 'This gate shall remain shut; it shall not be opened, and no one shall enter by it; for the LORD, the God of Israel, has entered by it; therefore it shall remain shut. Only the prince may sit in it to eat bread before the LORD; he shall enter by way of the vestibule of the gate, and shall go out by the same way.'
I remember starring at this gate when I was at the Mount of Olives knowing when Christ touches the Mount of Olives at the end of the Tribulation this gate will be open. Ezekiel seen this vision around 600 BC This alignment of the future Jewish temple with the Eastern Gate would only be appropriate. The architectural layout of the temple would surely have been to allow the Messiah to come through the eastern gate and go straight ahead into the Holy City. He would not be doing any turning left and then right or any 'jigs'. He would enter the city and go straight ahead and up into the temple.
This will allow the third temple to be built while co-existing for a while with the mosque now there.
As we look now at the present situation we see that the Dome of the Rock occupies the center of the temple mount. The future third temple could therefore be rebuilt to the north of the Dome. It would be on the same site as the former temple. There would be room to provide an acceptable easement between the two buildings. There would, in fact, be a clearance of 150 feet. This certainly would take an international agreement.
When Ariel Sharon presumptuously decided to take a stroll on the temple mount some years ago the result was bloody mayhem. There was a huge outcry throughout the Islamic world. For the Jewish temple to be built next to the Dome of the Rock mosque will take a peace covenant of world magnitude and import.
We also see in the book of Revelation 11: 2 KJV 'But the court which is without the temple leave out, and measure it not; for it is given unto the Gentiles: and the holy city shall they tread under foot forty and two months'. Many believe this is a reference to the Dome of the Rock being there. Some say that later when the earthquake comes in
Zechariah 11 and Ezekiel 38 at the end of the Tribulation that this temple and mosque will destroyed as Christ touches the Mount of Olives preparing the way for the millennial temple of Ezekiel 40.
This would mean the third temple during Jacobs’ trouble and the Great Tribulation will not be the final temple.
It is uncanny that Jerusalem is a center of three major religions, Judaism, Christianity and Islam. The oil in the area is of major economic and political concern to the entire world. The whole region is now involved with international politics and the Israeli Palestinian conflict is paramount..
We Christians believe in a second coming of Christ when he will open the Jewish peoples eyes showing them he was their Messiah. We think it is prophecy that they are back from the nations. Mathew 24: 15 lets us know the temple will be rebuilt and defiled. We believe the gentile church age will end and many prophecies written in the Old Testament concerning Israel and the region and the world will be fulfilled
The more I see the picture unfold with prophecy the more I feel that the Mosque of Omar called the Dome of the Rock will not be destroyed but will stay there next to the rebuilt Jewish temple and will be a sign of peace between Israel and moderate Islam brokered by the man of peace from Europe. Jerusalem will be given to both sides and an agreement will be reached.
The false liberal church will help broker the situation as well. Radical Islam will seem to dissipate and the anti christ will use the false prophet of the false church and this very liberal so called church of eclectic faith will seem to respect all faiths allowing the temple in Jerusalem to coexist with the Mosque of Omar.
This covenant will be broken after three and one half years when Russia will come down as written about in Ezekiel 38. The peace will be broken with the Jews and the anti Christ will turn against them and also give a mark where by no man will be able to buy or sell.
I totally believe we are soon to come to these days and we are in the last days of the church age and the times of the gentiles mentioned in Luke 21: 24. We are now in the time of sorrows and distress amongst nations (Math 24: 6-8) and soon will go into the Great Tribulation when all this will happen. Math.24: 21
The Apostle Paul said in Romans 11: 25 that blindness in part has happened to Israel until the fullness of the Gentiles become in”. This dispensation of the gospel to the gentile nations is ending and there will also be a great falling away towards liberalism that will accept gay life styles and various religions.
The false church will not be based on the Bible but theology, psychology, philosophy and the wisdom of man and so called reason. It will use religious rhetoric and talk about liberation and peace, it will appear to many as good but it really is a wolf in sheep clothing and eventually will back up the anti christ and be destroyed in the tribulation period. Many a person already talks about Jesus Christ separate from the Holy Scriptures. This false church will help lead to a unified Europe and extend its hand to the mid east peace process.
I always thought that the Mosque of Omar would be destroyed but even if it was the Arabs and Islam would want it immediately rebuilt. In order to really broker a peace this Temple and Mosque problem has to be settled.
Recently all kinds of Orthodox Jews are buying up East Jerusalem and tunneling and digging. There was a segment concerning this on 60 minutes. Many are also saying the Mosque and Temple can co-exist along side one another. Israel would never give up the temple area and Islam would never give up the Mosque of Omar. The peace process that will be started by the anti christ who will come to power in the west will settle this question.
We are in the times of prophecy. Hold on to your Bible faith and never let it go for some liberal church system that doesn’t preach Jesus Christ according to the Scriptures and revelation. We need twenty-four hour prayer going up in our churches and real praise and worship and Bible teaching
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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The Holy Grail
From noiseful arms, and acts of prowess done
In tournament or tilt, Sir Percivale,
Whom Arthur and his knighthood called The Pure,
Had passed into the silent life of prayer,
Praise, fast, and alms; and leaving for the cowl
The helmet in an abbey far away
From Camelot, there, and not long after, died.
And one, a fellow-monk among the rest,
Ambrosius, loved him much beyond the rest,
And honoured him, and wrought into his heart
A way by love that wakened love within,
To answer that which came: and as they sat
Beneath a world-old yew-tree, darkening half
The cloisters, on a gustful April morn
That puffed the swaying branches into smoke
Above them, ere the summer when he died
The monk Ambrosius questioned Percivale:
`O brother, I have seen this yew-tree smoke,
Spring after spring, for half a hundred years:
For never have I known the world without,
Nor ever strayed beyond the pale: but thee,
When first thou camest--such a courtesy
Spake through the limbs and in the voice--I knew
For one of those who eat in Arthur's hall;
For good ye are and bad, and like to coins,
Some true, some light, but every one of you
Stamped with the image of the King; and now
Tell me, what drove thee from the Table Round,
My brother? was it earthly passion crost?'
`Nay,' said the knight; `for no such passion mine.
But the sweet vision of the Holy Grail
Drove me from all vainglories, rivalries,
And earthly heats that spring and sparkle out
Among us in the jousts, while women watch
Who wins, who falls; and waste the spiritual strength
Within us, better offered up to Heaven.'
To whom the monk: `The Holy Grail!--I trust
We are green in Heaven's eyes; but here too much
We moulder--as to things without I mean--
Yet one of your own knights, a guest of ours,
Told us of this in our refectory,
But spake with such a sadness and so low
We heard not half of what he said. What is it?
The phantom of a cup that comes and goes?'
`Nay, monk! what phantom?' answered Percivale.
[...] Read more
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Jerusalem
Jerusalem, Jerusalem all roads lead to you.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem your light is shinning through.
And you will show, show the way, to all who see it shine,
That we can live, in peace, in Jerusalem this time.
The walls will keep you in, the walls will keep you out.
The gates are calling those, who know what it's about.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem all roads lead to you.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem your light is shinning through.
And you will show (you will show), show the way (show the way), to all who see it shine,
That we can live, in peace, in Jerusalem this time.
Jerusalem is old, Jerusalem is new,
Jerusalem can hold, Moslem, Christian, Jew.
In Jerusalem, Jerusalem all roads lead to you.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem your light is shinning through.
And you will show (you will show), show the way (show the way), to all who see it shine,
That we can live, in peace, in Jerusalem this time.
(Bridge)
The markets and the alleys, the temples and the tombs.
A place for all believers, it has so many rooms.
In Jerusalem, Jerusalem all roads lead to you.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem your light is shinning through.
And you will show (you will show), show the way (show the way), to all who see it shine,
That we can live, in peace, in Jerusalem this time.
Yes, we can live, in peace, in Jerusalem this time.
song performed by Don McLean
Added by Lucian Velea
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Unforgiven
Ain't got no love to sinnin
Ain't no love recieved
Fucc explainin
Nigga believe whatcha wanna believe
You've been decived I ain't dead yet
Ash to ash, dust to dust ain't been said yet
Fucc what you read nigga can't nobody touch me
You must be a playa hater trust me
They gon be yellin fucc me
Long as the world is spinnin
But I can't let it bother me
Quickly the most wanted
That's just how it got to be
Busta's be woofin but really don't what no funk
Self incriminatin
I'm eliminatin niggas is hatin niggas
Liquidatin niggas like car lots
I'm loccin up on them bustas
like the fool in that movie warlocc
Motha fuccas don't bow down now
The king of Sac Rap Raided is bacc in town now
(chorus)
Long as the world is spinnin
Whether I'm dead or livin
It's Sac Town X-Raided eternally unforgivin
All the times I committed sins
Misery never ends
Havin visions on the flames my soul gonna be burnin in
Turnin in my grave cuz I can't find piece
Everybody yellin X-Raided rest in grief
Long as the world is spinnin
Whether I'm dead or livin
It's Sac Town X-Raided eternally (eternally)
Long as the world is spinnin
Whether I'm dead or livin
It's Sac Town X-Raided eternally unforgivin
Call me murderer
Don't nobody know if it's true
Wanna see me dead
So call friends and enemies too
What can I do
Persecuted and hated tremendously
Prosecuted they tryin to give me a quater of a century
Nigga they mention me in the news
Always negative
What y'all know about me
to be steadily speakin of what I did
Y'all be speculatin
One day my bitch was in tears
She heard I got stabbed in the shower
[...] Read more
song performed by X-Raided
Added by Lucian Velea
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Unforgiven
Ain't got no love to sinnin
Ain't no love recieved
Fucc explainin
Nigga believe whatcha wanna believe
You've been decived I ain't dead yet
Ash to ash, dust to dust ain't been said yet
Fucc what you read nigga can't nobody touch me
You must be a playa hater trust me
They gon be yellin fucc me
Long as the world is spinnin
But I can't let it bother me
Quickly the most wanted
That's just how it got to be
Busta's be woofin but really don't what no funk
Self incriminatin
I'm eliminatin niggas is hatin niggas
Liquidatin niggas like car lots
I'm loccin up on them bustas
like the fool in that movie warlocc
Motha fuccas don't bow down now
The king of Sac Rap Raided is bacc in town now
(chorus)
Long as the world is spinnin
Whether I'm dead or livin
It's Sac Town X-Raided eternally unforgivin
All the times I committed sins
Misery never ends
Havin visions on the flames my soul gonna be burnin in
Turnin in my grave cuz I can't find piece
Everybody yellin X-Raided rest in grief
Long as the world is spinnin
Whether I'm dead or livin
It's Sac Town X-Raided eternally (eternally)
Long as the world is spinnin
Whether I'm dead or livin
It's Sac Town X-Raided eternally unforgivin
Call me murderer
Don't nobody know if it's true
Wanna see me dead
So call friends and enemies too
What can I do
Persecuted and hated tremendously
Prosecuted they tryin to give me a quater of a century
Nigga they mention me in the news
Always negative
What y'all know about me
to be steadily speakin of what I did
Y'all be speculatin
One day my bitch was in tears
She heard I got stabbed in the shower
[...] Read more
song performed by X-Raided
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pearl
Pearl of delight that a prince doth please
To grace in gold enclosed so clear,
I vow that from over orient seas
Never proved I any in price her peer.
So round, so radiant ranged by these,
So fine, so smooth did her sides appear
That ever in judging gems that please
Her only alone I deemed as dear.
Alas! I lost her in garden near:
Through grass to the ground from me it shot;
I pine now oppressed by love-wound drear
For that pearl, mine own, without a spot.
2
Since in that spot it sped from me,
I have looked and longed for that precious thing
That me once was wont from woe to free,
To uplift my lot and healing bring,
But my heart doth hurt now cruelly,
My breast with burning torment sting.
Yet in secret hour came soft to me
The sweetest song I e'er heard sing;
Yea, many a thought in mind did spring
To think that her radiance in clay should rot.
O mould! Thou marrest a lovely thing,
My pearl, mine own, without a spot.
3
In that spot must needs be spices spread
Where away such wealth to waste hath run;
Blossoms pale and blue and red
There shimmer shining in the sun;
No flower nor fruit their hue may shed
Where it down into darkling earth was done,
For all grass must grow from grains that are dead,
No wheat would else to barn be won.
From good all good is ever begun,
And fail so fair a seed could not,
So that sprang and sprouted spices none
From that precious pearl without a spot.
4
That spot whereof I speak I found
When I entered in that garden green,
As August's season high came round
When corn is cut with sickles keen.
There, where that pearl rolled down, a mound
With herbs was shadowed fair and sheen,
With gillyflower, ginger, and gromwell crowned,
And peonies powdered all between.
[...] Read more
poem by Anonymous Olde English
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Satan Absolved
(In the antechamber of Heaven. Satan walks alone. Angels in groups conversing.)
Satan. To--day is the Lord's ``day.'' Once more on His good pleasure
I, the Heresiarch, wait and pace these halls at leisure
Among the Orthodox, the unfallen Sons of God.
How sweet in truth Heaven is, its floors of sandal wood,
Its old--world furniture, its linen long in press,
Its incense, mummeries, flowers, its scent of holiness!
Each house has its own smell. The smell of Heaven to me
Intoxicates and haunts,--and hurts. Who would not be
God's liveried servant here, the slave of His behest,
Rather than reign outside? I like good things the best,
Fair things, things innocent; and gladly, if He willed,
Would enter His Saints' kingdom--even as a little child.
[Laughs. I have come to make my peace, to crave a full amaun,
Peace, pardon, reconcilement, truce to our daggers--drawn,
Which have so long distraught the fair wise Universe,
An end to my rebellion and the mortal curse
Of always evil--doing. He will mayhap agree
I was less wholly wrong about Humanity
The day I dared to warn His wisdom of that flaw.
It was at least the truth, the whole truth, I foresaw
When He must needs create that simian ``in His own
Image and likeness.'' Faugh! the unseemly carrion!
I claim a new revision and with proofs in hand,
No Job now in my path to foil me and withstand.
Oh, I will serve Him well!
[Certain Angels approach. But who are these that come
With their grieved faces pale and eyes of martyrdom?
Not our good Sons of God? They stop, gesticulate,
Argue apart, some weep,--weep, here within Heaven's gate!
Sob almost in God's sight! ay, real salt human tears,
Such as no Spirit wept these thrice three thousand years.
The last shed were my own, that night of reprobation
When I unsheathed my sword and headed the lost nation.
Since then not one of them has spoken above his breath
Or whispered in these courts one word of life or death
Displeasing to the Lord. No Seraph of them all,
Save I this day each year, has dared to cross Heaven's hall
And give voice to ill news, an unwelcome truth to Him.
Not Michael's self hath dared, prince of the Seraphim.
Yet all now wail aloud.--What ails ye, brethren? Speak!
Are ye too in rebellion? Angels. Satan, no. But weak
With our long earthly toil, the unthankful care of Man.
Satan. Ye have in truth good cause.
Angels. And we would know God's plan,
His true thought for the world, the wherefore and the why
Of His long patience mocked, His name in jeopardy.
[...] Read more
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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Paradise Regained
THE FIRST BOOK
I, WHO erewhile the happy Garden sung
By one man's disobedience lost, now sing
Recovered Paradise to all mankind,
By one man's firm obedience fully tried
Through all temptation, and the Tempter foiled
In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed,
And Eden raised in the waste Wilderness.
Thou Spirit, who led'st this glorious Eremite
Into the desert, his victorious field
Against the spiritual foe, and brought'st him thence 10
By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire,
As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute,
And bear through highth or depth of Nature's bounds,
With prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds
Above heroic, though in secret done,
And unrecorded left through many an age:
Worthy to have not remained so long unsung.
Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice
More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried
Repentance, and Heaven's kingdom nigh at hand 20
To all baptized. To his great baptism flocked
With awe the regions round, and with them came
From Nazareth the son of Joseph deemed
To the flood Jordan--came as then obscure,
Unmarked, unknown. But him the Baptist soon
Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore
As to his worthier, and would have resigned
To him his heavenly office. Nor was long
His witness unconfirmed: on him baptized
Heaven opened, and in likeness of a Dove 30
The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice
From Heaven pronounced him his beloved Son.
That heard the Adversary, who, roving still
About the world, at that assembly famed
Would not be last, and, with the voice divine
Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man to whom
Such high attest was given a while surveyed
With wonder; then, with envy fraught and rage,
Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air
To council summons all his mighty Peers, 40
Within thick clouds and dark tenfold involved,
A gloomy consistory; and them amidst,
With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake:--
"O ancient Powers of Air and this wide World
(For much more willingly I mention Air,
This our old conquest, than remember Hell,
Our hated habitation), well ye know
How many ages, as the years of men,
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poem by John Milton
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Orlando Furioso Canto 18
ARGUMENT
Gryphon is venged. Sir Mandricardo goes
In search of Argier's king. Charles wins the fight.
Marphisa Norandino's men o'erthrows.
Due pains Martano's cowardice requite.
A favouring wind Marphisa's gallery blows,
For France with Gryphon bound and many a knight.
The field Medoro and Cloridano tread,
And find their monarch Dardinello dead.
I
High minded lord! your actions evermore
I have with reason lauded, and still laud;
Though I with style inapt, and rustic lore,
You of large portion of your praise defraud:
But, of your many virtues, one before
All others I with heart and tongue applaud,
- That, if each man a gracious audience finds,
No easy faith your equal judgment blinds.
II
Often, to shield the absent one from blame,
I hear you this, or other, thing adduce;
Or him you let, at least, an audience claim,
Where still one ear is open to excuse:
And before dooming men to scaith and shame,
To see and hear them ever is your use;
And ere you judge another, many a day,
And month, and year, your sentence to delay.
III
Had Norandine been with your care endued,
What he by Gryphon did, he had not done.
Profit and fame have from your rule accrued:
A stain more black than pitch he cast upon
His name: through him, his people were pursued
And put to death by Olivero's son;
Who at ten cuts or thrusts, in fury made,
Some thirty dead about the waggon laid.
IV
Whither fear drives, in rout, the others all,
Some scattered here, some there, on every side,
Fill road and field; to gain the city-wall
Some strive, and smothered in the mighty tide,
One on another, in the gateway fall.
Gryphon, all thought of pity laid aside,
Threats not nor speaks, but whirls his sword about,
Well venging on the crowd their every flout.
[...] Read more
poem by Ludovico Ariosto
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Walkin' In Jerusalem
Walkin in Jerusalem?
Diamond Rio
Oh John, Oh John what did you say, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'll meet you there on the judgement day, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
...........instrumental..............
(quicker now)
Oh John, Oh John what did you say, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'll meet you there on the judgement day, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
...........instrumental..............
Some come crippled, and some come lame, walking in Jerusalem just like John
Some come walking in Jesus' name, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
....... instrumental........
If you get to heaven before I do, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Tell all my friends I'm coming too, walking in Jerusalem just like John
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
........... instrumental...........
Well carrying a load upon your shoulder, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah I'll meet you there at the first crossover, walking in Jerusalem just like John.
Yeah
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready (lord) I'm walking in Jerusalem just like John.
REPEAT 2 times
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready
I'm gonna be ready LORD
(slow right down)
To ........Walking in Jerusalem.......... Just like John
song performed by Diamond Rio
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Columbiad: Book III
The Argument
Actions of the Inca Capac. A general invasion of his dominions threatened by the mountain savages. Rocha, the Inca's son, sent with a few companions to offer terms of peace. His embassy. His adventure with the worshippers of the volcano. With those of the storm, on the Andes. Falls in with the savage armies. Character and speech of Zamor, their chief. Capture of Rocha and his companions. Sacrifice of the latter. Death song of Azonto. War dance. March of the savage armies down the mountains to Peru. Incan army meets them. Battle joins. Peruvians terrified by an eclipse of the sun, and routed. They fly to Cusco. Grief of Oella, supposing the darkness to be occasioned by the death of Rocha. Sun appears. Peruvians from the city wall discover Roch an altar in the savage camp. They march in haste out of the city and engage the savages. Exploits of Capac. Death of Zamor. Recovery of Rocha, and submission of the enemy.
Now twenty years these children of the skies
Beheld their gradual growing empire rise.
They ruled with rigid but with generous care,
Diffused their arts and sooth'd the rage of war,
Bade yon tall temple grace their favorite isle,
The mines unfold, the cultured valleys smile,
Those broad foundations bend their arches high,
And rear imperial Cusco to the sky;
Wealth, wisdom, force consolidate the reign
From the rude Andes to the western main.
But frequent inroads from the savage bands
Lead fire and slaughter o'er the labor'd lands;
They sack the temples, the gay fields deface,
And vow destruction to the Incan race.
The king, undaunted in defensive war,
Repels their hordes, and speeds their flight afar;
Stung with defeat, they range a wider wood,
And rouse fresh tribes for future fields of blood.
Where yon blue ridges hang their cliffs on high,
And suns infulminate the stormful sky,
The nations, temper'd to the turbid air,
Breathe deadly strife, and sigh for battle's blare;
Tis here they meditate, with one vast blow,
To crush the race that rules the plains below.
Capac with caution views the dark design,
Learns from all points what hostile myriads join.
And seeks in time by proffer'd leagues to gain
A bloodless victory, and enlarge his reign.
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
In early youth, ere yet the ripening sun
Had three short lustres o'er his childhood run,
The prince had learnt, beneath his father's hand,
The well-framed code that sway'd the sacred land;
With rites mysterious served the Power divine,
Prepared the altar and adorn'd the shrine,
Responsive hail'd, with still returning praise,
Each circling season that the God displays,
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poem by Joel Barlow
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David
My thought, on views of admiration hung,
Intently ravish'd and depriv'd of tongue,
Now darts a while on earth, a while in air,
Here mov'd with praise and mov'd with glory there;
The joys entrancing and the mute surprize
Half fix the blood, and dim the moist'ning eyes;
Pleasure and praise on one another break,
And Exclamation longs at heart to speak;
When thus my Genius, on the work design'd
Awaiting closely, guides the wand'ring mind.
If while thy thanks wou'd in thy lays be wrought,
A bright astonishment involve the thought,
If yet thy temper wou'd attempt to sing,
Another's quill shall imp thy feebler wing;
Behold the name of royal David near,
Behold his musick and his measures here,
Whose harp Devotion in a rapture strung,
And left no state of pious souls unsung.
Him to the wond'ring world but newly shewn,
Celestial poetry pronounc'd her own;
A thousand hopes, on clouds adorn'd with rays,
Bent down their little beauteous forms to gaze;
Fair-blooming Innocence with tender years,
And native Sweetness for the ravish'd ears,
Prepar'd to smile within his early song,
And brought their rivers, groves, and plains along;
Majestick Honour at the palace bred,
Enrob'd in white, embroider'd o'er with red,
Reach'd forth the scepter of her royal state,
His forehead touch'd, and bid his lays be great;
Undaunted Courage deck'd with manly charms,
With waving-azure plumes, and gilded arms,
Displaid the glories, and the toils of fight,
Demanded fame, and call'd him forth to write.
To perfect these the sacred spirit came,
By mild infusion of celestial flame,
And mov'd with dove-like candour in his breast,
And breath'd his graces over all the rest.
Ah! where the daring flights of men aspire
To match his numbers with an equal fire;
In vain they strive to make proud Babel rise,
And with an earth-born labour touch the skies.
While I the glitt'ring page resolve to view,
That will the subject of my lines renew;
The Laurel wreath, my fames imagin'd shade,
Around my beating temples fears to fade;
My fainting fancy trembles on the brink,
And David's God must help or else I sink.
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poem by Thomas Parnell
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Rose Mary
Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone
Lost the first, but the second won.
PART I
“MARY mine that art Mary's Rose
Come in to me from the garden-close.
The sun sinks fast with the rising dew,
And we marked not how the faint moon grew;
But the hidden stars are calling you.
“Tall Rose Mary, come to my side,
And read the stars if you'd be a bride.
In hours whose need was not your own,
While you were a young maid yet ungrown
You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.
“Daughter, once more I bid you read;
But now let it be for your own need:
Because to-morrow, at break of day,
To Holy Cross he rides on his way,
Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.
“Ere he wed you, flower of mine,
For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine.
Now hark to my words and do not fear;
Ill news next I have for your ear;
But be you strong, and our help is here.
“On his road, as the rumour's rife,
An ambush waits to take his life.
He needs will go, and will go alone;
Where the peril lurks may not be known;
But in this glass all things are shown.”
Pale Rose Mary sank to the floor:—
“The night will come if the day is o'er!”
“Nay, heaven takes counsel, star with star,
And help shall reach your heart from afar:
A bride you'll be, as a maid you are.”
The lady unbound her jewelled zone
And drew from her robe the Beryl-stone.
Shaped it was to a shadowy sphere,—
World of our world, the sun's compeer,
That bears and buries the toiling year.
With shuddering light 'twas stirred and strewn
Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon:
Freaked it was as the bubble's ball,
Rainbow-hued through a misty pall
Like the middle light of the waterfall.
Shadows dwelt in its teeming girth
Of the known and unknown things of earth;
The cloud above and the wave around,—
The central fire at the sphere's heart bound,
Like doomsday prisoned underground.
[...] Read more
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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VII. Pompilia
I am just seventeen years and five months old,
And, if I lived one day more, three full weeks;
'T is writ so in the church's register,
Lorenzo in Lucina, all my names
At length, so many names for one poor child,
—Francesca Camilla Vittoria Angela
Pompilia Comparini,—laughable!
Also 't is writ that I was married there
Four years ago: and they will add, I hope,
When they insert my death, a word or two,—
Omitting all about the mode of death,—
This, in its place, this which one cares to know,
That I had been a mother of a son
Exactly two weeks. It will be through grace
O' the Curate, not through any claim I have;
Because the boy was born at, so baptized
Close to, the Villa, in the proper church:
A pretty church, I say no word against,
Yet stranger-like,—while this Lorenzo seems
My own particular place, I always say.
I used to wonder, when I stood scarce high
As the bed here, what the marble lion meant,
With half his body rushing from the wall,
Eating the figure of a prostrate man—
(To the right, it is, of entry by the door)
An ominous sign to one baptized like me,
Married, and to be buried there, I hope.
And they should add, to have my life complete,
He is a boy and Gaetan by name—
Gaetano, for a reason,—if the friar
Don Celestine will ask this grace for me
Of Curate Ottoboni: he it was
Baptized me: he remembers my whole life
As I do his grey hair.
All these few things
I know are true,—will you remember them?
Because time flies. The surgeon cared for me,
To count my wounds,—twenty-two dagger-wounds,
Five deadly, but I do not suffer much—
Or too much pain,—and am to die to-night.
Oh how good God is that my babe was born,
—Better than born, baptized and hid away
Before this happened, safe from being hurt!
That had been sin God could not well forgive:
He was too young to smile and save himself.
When they took two days after he was born,
My babe away from me to be baptized
And hidden awhile, for fear his foe should find,—
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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The Iliad: Book 16
Thus did they fight about the ship of Protesilaus. Then Patroclus
drew near to Achilles with tears welling from his eyes, as from some
spring whose crystal stream falls over the ledges of a high precipice.
When Achilles saw him thus weeping he was sorry for him and said,
"Why, Patroclus, do you stand there weeping like some silly child that
comes running to her mother, and begs to be taken up and carried-
she catches hold of her mother's dress to stay her though she is in
a hurry, and looks tearfully up until her mother carries her- even
such tears, Patroclus, are you now shedding. Have you anything to
say to the Myrmidons or to myself? or have you had news from Phthia
which you alone know? They tell me Menoetius son of Actor is still
alive, as also Peleus son of Aeacus, among the Myrmidons- men whose
loss we two should bitterly deplore; or are you grieving about the
Argives and the way in which they are being killed at the ships, throu
their own high-handed doings? Do not hide anything from me but tell me
that both of us may know about it."
Then, O knight Patroclus, with a deep sigh you answered,
"Achilles, son of Peleus, foremost champion of the Achaeans, do not be
angry, but I weep for the disaster that has now befallen the
Argives. All those who have been their champions so far are lying at
the ships, wounded by sword or spear. Brave Diomed son of Tydeus has
been hit with a spear, while famed Ulysses and Agamemnon have received
sword-wounds; Eurypylus again has been struck with an arrow in the
thigh; skilled apothecaries are attending to these heroes, and healing
them of their wounds; are you still, O Achilles, so inexorable? May it
never be my lot to nurse such a passion as you have done, to the
baning of your own good name. Who in future story will speak well of
you unless you now save the Argives from ruin? You know no pity;
knight Peleus was not your father nor Thetis your mother, but the grey
sea bore you and the sheer cliffs begot you, so cruel and
remorseless are you. If however you are kept back through knowledge of
some oracle, or if your mother Thetis has told you something from
the mouth of Jove, at least send me and the Myrmidons with me, if I
may bring deliverance to the Danaans. Let me moreover wear your
armour; the Trojans may thus mistake me for you and quit the field, so
that the hard-pressed sons of the Achaeans may have breathing time-
which while they are fighting may hardly be. We who are fresh might
soon drive tired men back from our ships and tents to their own city."
He knew not what he was asking, nor that he was suing for his own
destruction. Achilles was deeply moved and answered, "What, noble
Patroclus, are you saying? I know no prophesyings which I am
heeding, nor has my mother told me anything from the mouth of Jove,
but I am cut to the very heart that one of my own rank should dare
to rob me because he is more powerful than I am. This, after all
that I have gone through, is more than I can endure. The girl whom the
sons of the Achaeans chose for me, whom I won as the fruit of my spear
on having sacked a city- her has King Agamemnon taken from me as
though I were some common vagrant. Still, let bygones be bygones: no
man may keep his anger for ever; I said I would not relent till battle
and the cry of war had reached my own ships; nevertheless, now gird my
[...] Read more
poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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The Legend Of St. Sophia Of Kioff
I.
[The Poet describes the city and spelling of Kiow, Kioff, or Kiova.]
A thousand years ago, or more,
A city filled with burghers stout,
And girt with ramparts round about,
Stood on the rocky Dnieper shore.
In armor bright, by day and night,
The sentries they paced to and fro.
Well guarded and walled was this town, and called
By different names, I'd have you to know;
For if you looks in the g'ography books,
In those dictionaries the name it varies,
And they write it off Kieff or Kioff, Kiova or Kiow.
II.
[Its buildings, public works, and ordinances, religious and civil.]
Thus guarded without by wall and redoubt,
Kiova within was a place of renown,
With more advantages than in those dark ages
Were commonly known to belong to a town.
There were places and squares, and each year four fairs,
And regular aldermen and regular lord-mayors;
And streets, and alleys, and a bishop's palace;
And a church with clocks for the orthodox—
With clocks and with spires, as religion desires;
And beadles to whip the bad little boys
Over their poor little corduroys,
In service-time, when they DIDN'T make a noise;
And a chapter and dean, and a cathedral-green
With ancient trees, underneath whose shades
Wandered nice young nursery-maids.
[The poet shows how a certain priest dwelt at Kioff, a godly
clergyman, and one that preached rare good sermons.]
Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-ding-a-ring-ding,
The bells they made a merry merry ring,
From the tall tall steeple; and all the people
(Except the Jews) came and filled the pews—
Poles, Russians and Germans,
To hear the sermons
Which HYACINTH preached godly to those Germans and Poles,
For the safety of their souls.
[...] Read more
poem by William Makepeace Thackeray
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The Three Little Pigs
The animal I really dig,
Above all others is the pig.
Pigs are noble. Pigs are clever,
Pigs are courteous. However,
Now and then, to break this rule,
One meets a pig who is a fool.
What, for example, would you say,
If strolling through the woods one day,
Right there in front of you you saw
A pig who'd built his house of STRAW?
The Wolf who saw it licked his lips,
And said, 'That pig has had his chips.'
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'
The little pig began to pray,
But Wolfie blew his house away.
He shouted, 'Bacon, pork and ham!
Oh, what a lucky Wolf I am!'
And though he ate the pig quite fast,
He carefully kept the tail till last.
Wolf wandered on, a trifle bloated.
Surprise, surprise, for soon he noted
Another little house for pigs,
And this one had been built of TWIGS!
'Little pig, little pig, let me come in!'
'No, no, by the hairs on my chinny-chin-chin!'
'Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house in!'
The Wolf said, 'Okay, here we go!'
He then began to blow and blow.
The little pig began to squeal.
He cried, 'Oh Wolf, you've had one meal!
Why can't we talk and make a deal?
The Wolf replied, 'Not on your nelly!'
And soon the pig was in his belly.
'Two juicy little pigs!' Wolf cried,
'But still I'm not quite satisfied!
I know how full my tummy's bulging,
But oh, how I adore indulging.'
So creeping quietly as a mouse,
The Wolf approached another house,
A house which also had inside
A little piggy trying to hide.
'You'll not get me!' the Piggy cried.
'I'll blow you down!' the Wolf replied.
'You'll need,' Pig said, 'a lot of puff,
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poem by Roald Dahl
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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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poem by Robert Browning
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VI. Giuseppe Caponsacchi
Answer you, Sirs? Do I understand aright?
Have patience! In this sudden smoke from hell,—
So things disguise themselves,—I cannot see
My own hand held thus broad before my face
And know it again. Answer you? Then that means
Tell over twice what I, the first time, told
Six months ago: 't was here, I do believe,
Fronting you same three in this very room,
I stood and told you: yet now no one laughs,
Who then … nay, dear my lords, but laugh you did,
As good as laugh, what in a judge we style
Laughter—no levity, nothing indecorous, lords!
Only,—I think I apprehend the mood:
There was the blameless shrug, permissible smirk,
The pen's pretence at play with the pursed mouth,
The titter stifled in the hollow palm
Which rubbed the eyebrow and caressed the nose,
When I first told my tale: they meant, you know,
"The sly one, all this we are bound believe!
"Well, he can say no other than what he says.
"We have been young, too,—come, there's greater guilt!
"Let him but decently disembroil himself,
"Scramble from out the scrape nor move the mud,—
"We solid ones may risk a finger-stretch!
And now you sit as grave, stare as aghast
As if I were a phantom: now 't is—"Friend,
"Collect yourself!"—no laughing matter more—
"Counsel the Court in this extremity,
"Tell us again!"—tell that, for telling which,
I got the jocular piece of punishment,
Was sent to lounge a little in the place
Whence now of a sudden here you summon me
To take the intelligence from just—your lips!
You, Judge Tommati, who then tittered most,—
That she I helped eight months since to escape
Her husband, was retaken by the same,
Three days ago, if I have seized your sense,—
(I being disallowed to interfere,
Meddle or make in a matter none of mine,
For you and law were guardians quite enough
O' the innocent, without a pert priest's help)—
And that he has butchered her accordingly,
As she foretold and as myself believed,—
And, so foretelling and believing so,
We were punished, both of us, the merry way:
Therefore, tell once again the tale! For what?
Pompilia is only dying while I speak!
Why does the mirth hang fire and miss the smile?
My masters, there's an old book, you should con
For strange adventures, applicable yet,
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poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
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