September 2

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by gerryadmin

459 St Simeon Stylites dies. Simeon was an ultra-ascetic Syrian monk, famous for having spent decades living atop a pillar, praying and preaching to the crowds who came to the desert to hear him. His example was widely-imitated for a time.

1192 Treaty of Jaffa between Richard and Saladin ends Third Crusade. Saladin’s capture of Jerusalem in 1187 sparked the Third Crusade which was to have been a joint venture led by the three great leaders of western Christendom: Frederick I Barbarossa, the Holy Roman Emperor; wily Philip Augustus of France; and Europe’s greatest warrior, Richard the Lionheart of England. Frederick died en route to the Holy Land and most of the German contingent turned for home. Philip weaseled out of his commitment early and returned to France to undermine Richard’s holdings in that country, leaving the English king with a much reduced force. He was able to defeat Saladin in open battle but lacked the resources to recapture Jerusalem. The treaty allowed for access of Christian pilgrims to Jerusalem and confirmed crusader holdings along the Mediterranean coast.

1415 Furious at the execution of Czech reformer John Hus by the Council of Constance, despite an imperial safe-conduct, an assembly of Bohemian and Moravian nobles sent the Protestatio Bohemorum, a letter of protest to the  Council, vowing they would fight to maintain their religious rights. This would lead to the great Hussite Rebellion which raged from 1419 to 1433. The Czech reforming factions would defeat five Catholic crusades sent against them before agreeing to the Compacta of Prague which allowed some moderate ritual changes, especially the administration of both bread and wine to the congregation during the Mass.

1666 Great Fire of London starts. Among its architectural victims was Old St Paul’s Cathedral, a Gothic structure built from the 11th to the 13th century with a spire almost 490’ (149 m) tall. Its destruction led to the construction of a replacement designed by Sir Christopher Wren in the neoclassical style with a massive dome. Wren’s building was completed on Christmas Day 1711 and survived the German aerial Blitz during World War II.

O God Our Help in Ages Past

Home / Something Wise / O God Our Help in Ages Past
by gerryadmin

Though this hymn by Isaac Watts (which paraphrases Psalm 90) predates the Victorian era, its steadfast confidence certainly sounds Victorian. As schoolchildren we used to sing it every Remembrance Day.

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

Under the shadow of Thy throne
Thy saints shall dwell secure;
Sufficient is Thine arm alone,
And our defence is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,
Or earth received her frame,
From everlasting Thou art God,
To endless years the same.

A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are like an evening gone;
Short as the watch that ends the night
Before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever rolling stream,
Bears all its sons away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.

Our God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Be Thou our guard while trials last,
And our eternal home.

Recessional

Home / Something Wise / Recessional
by gerryadmin

Rudyard Kipling (1865-1936) outlived the Victorian era, but his verse always reflects the values of the reign of that great Queen. Though this was written in 1897 for Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee, it sounds a cautionary note about the impermanence of human empires and bids the British be humble.

God of our fathers, known of old,
  Lord of our far-flung battle line,
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
  Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

The tumult and the shouting dies;
  The Captains and the Kings depart:
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
  An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Far-called our navies melt away;
  On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
  Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
  Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
  Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

For heathen heart that puts her trust
  In reeking tube and iron shard,
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
  And guarding calls not Thee to guard,
For frantic boast and foolish word-
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!

Battle Hymn of the Republic

Home / Something Wise / Battle Hymn of the Republic
by gerryadmin

A hymn that combines martial ardor and the claim of godliness for the Union cause in the American Civil War, the “Battle Hymn of the Republic” was written by Julia Ward Howe for Atlantic magazine in 1862. The tune, originally a folk melody, had recently been applied to “John Brown’s Body”, about the executed Kansas anti-slaver.

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on.

(Chorus)
Glory, Glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
Glory, glory, hallelujah!
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps,
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
His day is marching on.

(Chorus)

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal”;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on.

(Chorus)

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat;
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! Be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.

(Chorus)

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me.
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.

(Chorus)

Lead, Kindly Light

Home / Something Wise / Lead, Kindly Light
by gerryadmin

This poem by John Henry Newman became a favourite hymn, famously sung amidst many disasters, including on the lifeboats of the “Titanic”, in Ravensbruck concentration camp, and by trapped miners underground

“Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th’encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path; but now
Lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on.
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

Meantime, along the narrow rugged path,
Thyself hast trod,
Lead, Saviour, lead me home in childlike faith,
Home to my God.
To rest forever after earthly strife

In the calm light of everlasting life.”

Praise My Soul the King of Heaven

Home / Something Wise / Praise My Soul the King of Heaven
by gerryadmin

Here is another classic by the Scottish Anglican priest Henry Francis Lyte.

Praise, my soul, the King of Heaven;
To His feet thy tribute bring.
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who like me His praise should sing:
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Praise the everlasting King.
Praise Him for His grace and favour
To our fathers in distress.
Praise Him still the same as ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Glorious in His faithfulness.
Fatherlike He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows.
In His hands He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Widely yet His mercy flows.
Frail as summer’s flower we flourish,
Blows the wind and it is gone;
But while mortals rise and perish
Our God lives unchanging on,
Praise Him, Praise Him, Hallelujah
Praise the High Eternal One!
Angels, help us to adore Him;
Ye behold Him face to face;
Sun and moon, bow down before Him,
Dwellers all in time and space.
Alleluia! Alleluia!
Praise with us the God of grace.

Abide With Me

Home / Something Wise / Abide With Me
by gerryadmin

There is wonderful poetry in Victorian hymns. This favourite was written by Henry Francis Lyte in 1847, as he lay dying of tuberculosis. Like all Anglican hymns it goes on two verses too long.

 

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word,
But as Thou dwell’st with Thy disciples, Lord,
Familiar, condescending, patient, free.
Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile,
And though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee.
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

General William BoothEnters Into Heaven

Home / Something Wise / General William BoothEnters Into Heaven
by gerryadmin

William Booth was, with his wife Catherine, the founder of the Salvation Army. Vachel Lindsay imagines the moment Booth and a train of those poor and deformed whom he tended in his lifetime enter into Heaven where they are transformed and healed. The poem was meant to be chanted and sung aloud.

[To be sung to the tune of “The Blood of the Lamb” with indicated instrument]
[BASS DRUM BEATEN LOUDLY]
Booth led boldly with his big bass drum—   
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   
The Saints smiled gravely and they said: “He’s come.”   
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   
Walking lepers followed, rank on rank,   
Lurching bravoes from the ditches dank,   
Drabs from the alleyways and drug fiends pale—   
Minds still passion-ridden, soul-powers frail:—   
Vermin-eaten saints with mouldy breath,   
Unwashed legions with the ways of Death—   
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   
[BANJOS]
Every slum had sent its half-a-score   
The round world over. (Booth had groaned for more.)   
Every banner that the wide world flies   
Bloomed with glory and transcendent dyes.   
Big-voiced lasses made their banjos bang,   
Tranced, fanatical they shrieked and sang:—   
“Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?”   
Hallelujah! It was queer to see   
Bull-necked convicts with that land make free.   
Loons with trumpets blowed a blare, blare, blare   
On, on upward thro’ the golden air!   
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   
[BASS DRUM SLOWER AND SOFTER]
Booth died blind and still by Faith he trod,   
Eyes still dazzled by the ways of God.   
Booth led boldly, and he looked the chief   
Eagle countenance in sharp relief,   
Beard a-flying, air of high command   
Unabated in that holy land.   
[SWEET FLUTE MUSIC]
Jesus came from out the court-house door,   
Stretched his hands above the passing poor.   
Booth saw not, but led his queer ones there   
Round and round the mighty court-house square.   
Yet in an instant all that blear review   
Marched on spotless, clad in raiment new.   
The lame were straightened, withered limbs uncurled   
And blind eyes opened on a new, sweet world.   
[BASS DRUM LOUDER]
Drabs and vixens in a flash made whole!   
Gone was the weasel-head, the snout, the jowl!   
Sages and sibyls now, and athletes clean,   
Rulers of empires, and of forests green!   
[GRAND CHORUS OF ALL INSTRUMENTS.
TAMBOURINES TO THE FOREGROUND]
The hosts were sandalled, and their wings were fire!   
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   
But their noise played havoc with the angel-choir.   
(Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?)   
O shout Salvation! It was good to see   
Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free.   
The banjos rattled and the tambourines   
Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens.   
[REVERENTLY SUNG. NO INSTRUMENTS]
And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer   
He saw his Master thro’ the flag-filled air.   
Christ came gently with a robe and crown   
For Booth the soldier, while the throng knelt down.   
He saw King Jesus. They were face to face,   
And he knelt a-weeping in that holy place.   
Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?