"THE TWENTY THIRD PSALM"

From the Bible, The Book of Psalms

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures;

He leadeth me beside the still waters.

He restoreth my soul;

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for

      His name's sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow

      of death,

I will fear no evil; for thou art with me;

Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of

      mine enemies;

Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of

      my life,

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

The Holy Bible, Book of Psalms, Chapter 23

"SISTERS, SISTERS"

By Irving Berlin

Sisters, sisters

There were never such devoted sisters

Never had to have a chaperone, no sir

I'm there to keep my eye on her.

Caring, sharing

Every little thing that we are wearing

When a certain gentleman arrived from Rome

She wore the dress, and I stayed home.

All kinds of weather, we stick together

The same in the rain and sun

Two different faces, but in tight places

We think and we act as one.

Those who've seen us

Know that not a thing could come between us

Many men have tried to split us up, but no one can

Lord help the mister who comes between me and my sister

And Lord help the sister, who comes between me and my man.

http://lyricsfreak.com/i/irving+berlin/sisters+sisters_20068139.html

"ALL THAT IS GOLD DOES NOT GLITTER"

By:  John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

All that is gold does not glitter,

 Not all those who wander are lost;

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken,

The crownless again shall be king.

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/all-that- is- gold-does-not-glitter/

"THE RAVEN"

By Edgar Allan Poe

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,

While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,

As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.

"Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door-

Only this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,

And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor

Eagerly I wished the morrow, - vainly I had sought to borrow

From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -

For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore -

Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain

Thrilled me-filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;

So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,

"Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-

Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,-

This it is, and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger, hesitating then no longer,

"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;

But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping

And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,

That I scarce was sure I heard you"-here I opened wide the door,-

Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,

Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;

But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,

And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore!"

This I whispered, and an echo murmered back the word, "Lenore!"-

Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,

Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.

"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;

Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -

Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -

"Tis the wind and nothing more."

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter

In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;

Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;

But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -

Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -

Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,

By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,

"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said,"art sure no craven",

Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-

Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"

Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."

*Because of the length of this poem, you will need to go to the following web site to continue.  It is well worth your time to do so.

      http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/raven-the/

"DON'T QUIT!"

Author Unknown

When things go wrong,as they sometimes will.

When the road you're trudging seems all uphill,

When the funds are low and the debts are high

And you want to smile, but you have to sigh.

When care is pressing you down a bit,

Rest if you must - but don't you quit.

Life is queer with its twists and turns,

As every one of us sometimes learns,

And many a person turns about

When they might have won had they stuck it out.

Stick to your task, though the pace seems slow..

You may succeed with one more blow.

Often the struggler has given up

When he might have captured the victor's cup;

And he learned too late when the night came down

How close he was to the golden crown.

Success is failure turned inside out…

The silver tint of the clouds of doubt…

And you never can tell how close you are,

It may be near when it seems afar;

So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit…

It's when things seem worst that YOU MUSTN'T QUIT!

Springbrook Publications, Inc.  1987 Fraser MI

     

"IT CAN BE DONE"

Author Unknown

The man who misses all the fun

Is he who says, "It can't be done."

In solemn pride he stands aloof

And greets each venture with reproof.

Had he the power he'd efface

The history of the human race;

We'd have no radio or motor cars,

No streets lit by electric stars;

No telegraph nor telephone,

We'd linger in the age of stone.

The world would sleep if things were run

By men who say, "It can't be done."

Poems that Stir the Heart   Compiled by Mary Sanford Laurence

A Hart Book,  A & W PUBLISHERS - NEW YORK

"The Christmas Bells Poem"

By:   Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the bells on Christmas Day

    Their old, familiar carols play,

          And wild and sweet

             The words repeat

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,

       The belfries of all Christendom

               Had rolled along

              The unbroken song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

     Till, ringing, singing on its way

The world revolved from night to day,

              A voice, a chime,

                   A chant sublime

Of peace on earth, good will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth

    The cannon thundered in the South,

                 And with the sound

                 The carols drowned

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

      And in despair I bowed my head;

   "There is no peace on earth," I said

                'For hate is strong,

                And mocks the song

    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

   'God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!

           The wrong shall fail,

           The right prevail,

   With peace on earth, good will to men!'

http://www.carols.org.uk/christmas_bells_longfellow.htm