DWill wrote:Sorry for the skipped day again. My computer got a worm and had to go away to have its hard-drive scrubbed. So I'll post from work.

294. "The Passionate Man's Pilgrimage, " by Sir Walter Raleigh. It must have been quite a sensation to once have been able to believe so whole-heartedly that such a fate awaited us.

*My bold

Too bad about your computer. Not just sensational, but comforting. Having just been to the funeral of a friend, who was not religious, I was struck by how much time was spent describing heaven. I realize that it is for the solace of the left behind. It seemed a bit crazy to me at the time. When I spend time thinking about the void I really get why there seems to be such a drive to believe in something bigger and better than a human.

Very true. It seems to many people that at such times one just has to talk about the "better place" the person has gone to, to ease the sting of the world-without-him/her feeling. But I'm like you and would like to issue instructions that this not be done at my own funeral.

Oh my goodness.....just look at all of the drinking/liquid/thirst similies, metaphors, images. And that in this heat over here! Interesting that we go from heavy liquid imagery to dryness to bliss. Interesting poem but can't say I like it.

oblivion wrote:Oh my goodness.....just look at all of the drinking/liquid/thirst similies, metaphors, images. And that in this heat over here! Interesting that we go from heavy liquid imagery to dryness to bliss. Interesting poem but can't say I like it.

We here in Virginia are back into the heavy moist heat that the DC area is known for -- all I can say is, "yuck!"

Mu computer is still having the demons cast from it, so the poem postings could be sporadic until I get it back.

293. Psalm 23, by...I guess, King David? I'll start with the most famous translation, King James, and add a couple of the countless other translations out there.

THE LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.
2 He makes me to lie down in agreen pastures: he leadeth me beside the bstill waters.
3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
4 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.
5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my
head with oil; my cup runneth over.
6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell
in the house of the LORD for ever.

New Revised Standard

1 The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
3 he restores my soul.
He leads me in right pathsc
for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,d
I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff—
they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
6 Surelye goodness and mercyf shall follow me
all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD
my whole life long.

Rheims-Douay (Catholic)

THE Lord ruleth me: and I shall want nothing. 2 He hath set me in a place of pasture.
He hath brought me up, on the water of refreshment: 3 he hath converted my soul.
He hath led me on paths of justice, for his own name’s sake.
4 For though I should walk in the midst of the shadow of death, I will fear no evils, for
thou art with me.
Thy rod and thy staff, they have comforted me.
5 Thou hast prepared a table before me, against them that afflict me.
Thou hast anointed my head with oil; and my chalice which inebriateth me, how goodly
is it!
6 And thy mercy will follow me all the days of my life.
And that I may dwell in the house of the Lord unto length of days.

292. "The Cherry Tree-Carol," by anonymous. This is an early religious folk song.

JOSEPH was an old man,
and an old man was he,
When he wedded Mary,
in the land of Galilee.
Joseph and Mary walked
through an orchard good,
Where was cherries and berries,
so red as any blood.
Joseph and Mary walked
through an orchard green,
Where was berries and cherries,
as thick as might be seen.
O then bespoke Mary,
so meek and so mild:
‘Pluck me one cherry, Joseph,
for I am with child.’
O then bespoke Joseph,
with words most unkind:
‘Let him pluck thee a cherry
that brought thee with child.’
O then bespoke the babe,
within his mother’s womb:
‘Bow down then the tallest tree,
for my mother to have some.’
Then bowed down the highest tree
unto his mother’s hand;
Then she cried, See, Joseph,
I have cherries at command.
O then bespake Joseph:
‘I have done Mary wrong;
But cheer up, my dearest,
and be not cast down.’
Then Mary plucked a cherry,
as red as the blood,
Then Mary went home
with her heavy load.
Then Mary took her babe,
and sat him on her knee,
Saying, My dear son, tell me
what this world will be.
‘O I shall be as dead, mother,
as the stones in the wall;
O the stones in the streets, mother,
shall mourn for me all.
‘Upon Easter-day, mother,
my uprising shall be;
O the sun and the moon, mother,
shall both rise with me.’

With especially the last poem, I am trying to ignore content I don't much care for and find style, composition, etc that could be saving for the poem--but I just can't!
And dwill, don't worry about your computer: think of it as a well-deserved break!

Notice to posters and lurkers:

We are now at poem #291have. We have moved on to the thread for poems 300-201. Look for us there!

Saffron