Daily Poem - Loving this One!

John Godfrey Saxe. 1816–1887

114. Early Rising

"GOD bless the man who first invented sleep!"
So Sancho Panza said, and so say I:
And bless him, also, that he did n't keep
His great discovery to himself; nor try
To make it—as the lucky fellow might—	5
A close monopoly by patent-right!
Yes; bless the man who first invented sleep
(I really can't avoid the iteration),
But blast the man, with curses loud and deep,
Whate'er the rascal's name, or age, or station,	10
Who first invented, and went round advising,
That artificial cut-off, Early Rising!
"Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed,"
Observes some solemn, sentimental owl;
Maxims like these are very cheaply said;	15
But, ere you make yourself a fool or fowl,
Pray just inquire about his rise and fall,
And whether larks have any beds at all!
The time for honest folks to be a-bed
Is in the morning, if I reason right;	20
And he who cannot keep his precious head
Upon his pillow till it 's fairly light,
And so enjoy his forty morning winks,
Is up to knavery; or else—he drinks!
Thomson, who sung about the "Seasons," said	25
It was a glorious thing to rise in season;
But then he said it—lying—in his bed,
At ten o'clock A.M.,—the very reason
He wrote so charmingly. The simple fact is,
His preaching was n't sanctioned by his practice.	30
'T is, doubtless, well to be sometimes awake,—
Awake to duty, and awake to truth,—
But when, alas! a nice review we take
Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth,
The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep	35
Are those we passed in childhood or asleep!
'T is beautiful to leave the world awhile
For the soft visions of the gentle night;
And free, at last, from mortal care or guile,
To live as only in the angels' sight,	40
In sleep's sweet realm so cosily shut in,
Where, at the worst, we only dream of sin!
So let us sleep, and give the Maker praise.
I like the lad who, when his father thought
To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase	45
Of vagrant worm by early songster caught,
Cried, "Served him right!—it 's not at all surprising;
The worm was punished, sir, for early rising!"

4:30p.m. On an Winter Afternoon

When the clouds finally clear from the tops of the mountains & all you see is white (speaking of the higher peaks there, of course)...that's an amazing moment!  I always feel like I can understand a little of the Israelites mind when Moses was on the mountain for 40 days.  Yes, I begin to wonder, What's happening up there?  Will it still be there when the clouds are gone? We do tend to walk by sight, don't we?

And by the way, you're right...that's a LOT of brown for winter in Utah.  We're feelin' it!  All you Southerners & snowbirds should make plans to come some place warm for the winter!  ;-)

#Ogden  #MtOgden #Snow #SunnyDay #MoonRise

Living Rejoicing! Every Day!

I've been humming this song for about a week now.  II Chronicles 15:15 is the verse in my mind for a while now, I'm sure.

O Happy Day

by Philip Doddridge

And all Judah rejoiced at the oath: for they had sworn with all their heart, and sought him with their whole desire; and he was found of them: and theLord gave them rest round about.  (II Chronicles 15:15)

O happy day, that fixed my choice
On Thee, my Savior and my God!
Well may this glowing heart rejoice,
And tell its raptures all abroad.

O happy bond, that seals my vows
To Him who merits all my love!
Let cheerful anthems fill His house,
While to that sacred shrine I move.

’Tis done: the great transaction’s done!
I am the Lord’s and He is mine;
He drew me, and I followed on;
Charmed to confess the voice divine.

Now rest, my long divided heart,
Fixed on this blissful center, rest.
Here have I found a nobler part;
Here heavenly pleasures fill my breast.

High Heaven, that heard the solemn vow,
That vow renewed shall daily hear,
Till in life’s latest hour I bow
And bless in death a bond so dear.

Happy day, happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away!
He taught me how to watch and pray, and live rejoicing every day
Happy day, happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away.

"We Will Never Forget Them"

High Flight 
By John Gillespie Magee, Jr.

---

Portions Of This Lovely Poem Appear On The Headstones
 Of Many Interred In Arlington National Cemetery,
Patricularly Aviators And Astronauts 

---

"Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds -
and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of -
wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence.
Hovering there I've chased the shouting wind along
and flung my eager craft through footless halls of air.

"Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
and, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
the high untrespassed sanctity of space,
put out my hand and touched the face of God."

High Flight was composed by Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee,  Jr., an American serving with the Royal Canadian Air Force. He was born in Shanghai, China in 1922, the son of missionary parents,  Reverend and Mrs. John Gillespie Magee; his father was an American and his mother was originally a British citizen.  He came to the U.S. in 1939 and earned a scholarship to Yale, but in September 1940 he enlisted in the RCAF and was graduated as a pilot. He was sent to England for combat duty in July 1941. In August or September 1941, Pilot Officer Magee composed High Flight and sent a copy to his parents. Several months later, on December 11, 1941 his Spitfire collided with another plane over England and Magee, only 19 years of age, crashed to his death. His remains are buried in the churchyard cemetery at Scopwick, Lincolnshire. Biography and photo courtesy of the United States Air Force

Coffee Filter Fish Craft (Marine / Ocean Biome)

Our 1st graders' fish project turned out even better than I expected!  The students did a great job!

We colored (scribbled) with washable markers on coffee filter papers.  A little spray of water, blow dry & the colors blend together so nicely!  Love the online community of teachers who share their ideas with everyone else.  Thank you!

#coffeefilters #octopus #jellyfish #marinebiome #oceanbiome #oceancraft #coffeefilterfish

Yale Book of American Verse

One of my favorite book discoveries for 2013 was the Yale Book of American Verse compiled by Thomas R. Lounsbury, found on www.bartleby.com.  It is the "best of the best" & I have discovered many new joys through the year.   Another discovery came today, & I read it as our daily poem in English class.  This gave me one of those moments when I see Christ, His Work, and myself a bit clearer.   Though we are adverse to God in every way, He bids us seek Him.  He gives us the will to seek Him.  He makes it easy to seek Him.  He receives us when we seek Him.  He rewards us for doing that which He caused us to do and gave us the will to do.  The thought "Amazing Grace" wells up in my heart and seems so appropriate & yet not nearly enough. Praise the Lord, for His wondrous works to the children of men! 206. The Fool's Prayer

By Edward Rowland Sill.  1841-1887

THE ROYAL feast was done; the King
Sought some new sport to banish care,
And to his jester cried: "Sir Fool,
Kneel now, and make for us a prayer!"
The jester doffed his cap and bells,	5
And stood the mocking court before;
They could not see the bitter smile
Behind the painted grin he wore.
He bowed his head, and bent his knee
Upon the monarch's silken stool;	10
His pleading voice arose: "O Lord,
Be merciful to me, a fool!
"No pity, Lord, could change the heart
From red with wrong to white as wool;
The rod must heal the sin: but, Lord,	15
Be merciful to me, a fool!
"'T is not by guilt the onward sweep
Of truth and right, O Lord, we stay;
'T is by our follies that so long
We hold the earth from heaven away.	20
"These clumsy feet, still in the mire,
Go crushing blossoms without end;
These hard, well-meaning hands we thrust
Among the heart-strings of a friend.
"The ill-timed truth we might have kept—	25
Who knows how sharp it pierced and stung?
The word we had not sense to say—
Who knows how grandly it had rung?
"Our faults no tenderness should ask,
The chastening stripes must cleanse them all;	30
But for our blunders—oh, in shame
Before the eyes of heaven we fall.
"Earth bears no balsam for mistakes;
Men crown the knave, and scourge the tool
That did his will; but Thou, O Lord,	35
Be merciful to me, a fool!"
The room was hushed; in silence rose
The King, and sought his gardens cool,
And walked apart, and murmured low,
"Be merciful to me, a fool!"

A Heart Overflowing With "Thanks to God!"

The Separatists coming to the New World from England came to worship God according to the Bible’s direction.  Upon arrival, several years of extreme sacrifice, difficult labor, and total dependence on the Almighty characterized their existence.  As time progressed, they prospered more and more, all thanks being given to the Providence of God in Heaven.

Thanksgiving tradition tells of the winter of 1623 when the Pilgrims were surviving on a ration of five kernels of corn a day.  It is said that later, the settlers would sometimes set the plates at their Thanksgiving tables with five corn kernels to begin with purposely remembering what God had brought them through and reminding them to consider that every one of them had at least five things to be thankful for.

 

This hymn was written by August Storm after being saved as a young man through the ministry of the Salvation Army.  In his mid-thirties, he was crippled and languished in pain due to a back injury.  Still, he sang this song and wrote another later, of God’s grace through the good times and the bad.

August Ludvig Storm

As my first grade class listened to this song today, they counted on their fingers the many things to be thankful for.  The children quickly ran out of fingers and used their own more than three times over.  This song alone lists THIRTY-TWO things to be thankful for.

Thanks to God

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,
Thanks for all Thou dost provide!
Thanks for times now but a memory,
Thanks for Jesus by my side!
Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,
Thanks for dark and stormy fall!
Thanks for tears by now forgotten,
Thanks for peace within my soul!

Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,
Thanks for what Thou dost deny!
Thanks for storms that I have weathered,
Thanks for all Thou dost supply!
Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,
Thanks for comfort in despair!
Thanks for grace that none can measure,
Thanks for love beyond compare!

Thanks for roses by the wayside,
Thanks for thorns their stems contain!
Thanks for home and thanks for fireside,
Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain!
Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow,
Thanks for heav’nly peace with Thee!
Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,
Thanks through all eternity!

When we finished, one of my students raised her hand and asked, “Ma’am, thanks for PAIN?”

Ah, and there we are, having recently attended a funeral for a man in our church, recalling a mother in constant pain with Lyme Disease, and a little brother wondering what is happening with his kidneys. 

Even as my first thought was, How can these young, innocent, naïve children understand such a great concept?  My second thought was, though young, they are not complete strangers to pain and struggle.  I looked around the room.  He was their friend and long-time prayer request who passed away.  She is his mother who lives with continual pain. Her brother has been going to the doctor every day for a week trying to find out what is happening to his body. 

So we thanked the Lord for, yes, this pain, too.

Our friend is now in Heaven, free from pain!  His wife constantly says, “God does all things well, and He has given so much peace!  I thank Him every day.”

Him:  “Oh yes, and my mom has a good doctor now, and she is going to be well the month after Christmas!”

Her:  “God will help my brother, too.  He’s taking care of him.”

Me:  “That’s right, no matter what happens, He will be in control and we can trust Him.”

Him/Her:  “Yes, we can.  Yes, we can.”

No less, I had the privilege to recall the pain of Christ, mocked and beaten by an angry crowd, nailed to a cross to die.  How thankful we can be for the pain that He bore to redeem us from our sins. 

Yes, thanks, thanks even for pain.