Thirst

Thirst 

My Jesus, You have taught me thirst 

through parched and desert ways;

have taught my will to seek You first

and, first, to sing Your praise!

Your word is water, cool and clear, 

to which meek lambs are led, 

relieving hearts made weak by fear, 

reviving what was dead. 

Your words are milk, and fat the soul,

and hale, and satisfied

who drinks his vigor from Your bowl - 

His strength is magnified!

Jesus, Your word is honey, sweet, 

imparting to the wise

an hope that will be made complete, 

a bright'ning of their eyes!

Your words are jars of pressèd oil

poured out, yet never dry;

a wealth which cannot fail nor spoil

in daily rich supply!

My Jesus, how Your word is wine, 

and spirits cry for joy

to drink in every crimson line

and faithfully employ!

My Jesus, You have quenched my thirst, 

and wet my lips to sing

Your praise, who loved me best and first!

How fathomless Your spring!

The heart and body, soul and mind

who seeks Your life to gain

will every promised blessing find,

and never thirst again!

~

AMDG, Thanksgiving 2025

https://hymnary.org/tune/kingsfold_english#google_vignette

Sonnet

 I will drink blood; Thy wine or, failing, choke

on such diminished sludge as yet delights

and puppeteers this brittle frame to flights

macabre - the wit of ego's vicious joke. 

I will eat bread; burnt black o'er ordure-smoke,

yet from Thy hand. Else, gluttony incites

I gnaw my flesh to quell dark appetites, 

my kith to tease the thirst my tastes awoke. 

Curst lies this sciolist of love divine

who crafts excuses to palaver grace

and vaunts the depths of his own acumen. 

What worlds might be with love that mirrored Thine?

Or deeds o'er words which serv'd t'unveil Thy face?

Let wisdom turn upon Thy mere Amen!

~

AMDG

Leave None Untouched

 YHWH, our God, our defender and champion,

the nations are raging, encircling around.

See! How your enemies boast in their anger? 

They trumpet the vapors with which they are crowned 

Crueller than iron, consuming like death, 

Father, rescue our souls from their ravenous clutch! 

Walk through their midst in the dark of Your fury; 

No recreant spare, nor leave heathen untouched!

Jesus, Your bride is beset on all sides! How 

the nations despise her for good You have wrought! 

See! How they bow to themselves alone! Idols 

of death unto death else can render them naught. 

Happy we bear the reproach and false witness; 

our witness of grace will, by faith, produce much.

Plead we "forgive them," as we have been pardoned 

As seed drops our blood; leave no sinner untouched!

Spirit, the walls of Your borderless city 

Are wholly surrounded by nations in ruin.

See! How the blind man demands of us glasses,

and hear how the deaf man cries out for a tune! 

Starving, they steal what we offer them freely;

Our Healer, we, too, were as broken as such.

Blow through our midst in Your sweet condescension, 

And stretch out our hand, leaving no soul untouched!

~

AMDG

All Glory

All glory, King Jesus, to You! You alone 

by merit have earned the celestial throne.

The nations parade by that merciful seat,

as spoils of Your vict'ry are cast at Your feet.

No splendor of nature below will be found

To polish the gleam of Your testament crown.

Nor artifice fashioned by man may exceed

the majesty of Your unparalleled deed.

What wonder a cross would be balm to our pain;

what marvel that blood should eliminate stain! 

Such wisdom is deeper than angels may reach; 

Such honor a mystery no magus can teach! 

No glory we bear, but as You have assigned, 

nor reason, except You have purposed our mind 

as talents for which You will reckon account 

when, lovely, Your foot splits the Olivet Mount.

All glory is Yours, and I tremble to see

what grandeur illuminates eternity!

How awful to witness Your unclouded face; 

more terrible, yet, to give measure Your grace!

All excellence, Jesus, our hearts swell to sing 

is rightfully Yours as Redeemer and King.

The scarlet, the golden, the radiant white

raise hands to obedience, my soul to delight!

AMDG

Yours Is The Word

We, YHWH, hear Your chariot thund'ring by

and tremble at the sparks her eye-wheels throw

which rend the shrouding veil of roiling sky, 

reveal the arc by which You come and go. 

Yours is the word that sends the wind and rain

on beast and man alike, on sand and stone. 

Your breath goes forth, returning not in vain, 

but 'pon the fearful heart is heard and known. 

O! YHWH, 'neath Your tread the very earth

portends her doom; her failing pillars groan

and quake, ere worlds meet for eternal worth

be rattled loose from 'midst her splint'ring bones. 

Yours is the word that brings high places down. 

Ravines are, as by labor-moanings, raised. 

The cedars splinter, casting down their crowns, 

And temples turn't to gravel pave Your ways. 

We, YHWH, feel Your all-consuming flame

which spares not elements themselves, reveals

to altar-sons Your hidden, Holy name, 

and blinds the fool, Your glory to conceal. 

Yours is the word that sets the world ablaze

to try the work and worth of mortal hands.

It sears the hardened heart; the heart which prays 

is, daily, kindled bright by joy's demand.

Yet, YHWH, now Your whistle, whisper, breath

passes not by, nor lingers, nay, but dwells - 

The living Word of faith has set His hearth

between the souls of men! Immanuel!

Yours is the word that names Your chosen flock

and leads to quiet leas where want may cease.

Attune our ears as, through our midst, You walk, 

and bond our heart and tongue in hallowed peace. 

~

1 Kings 19:9-12

Ravus

2.26.25

AMDG

Blessings

 

Thy blessings have I counted, Lord;

forgive my insolence!

I own not measure, sense, not word

for such magnificence.

On weighted scales I judge my due

'gainst what Thy love ordains,

appraise my labors, laid to sue

f'r anticipated gains!

My ledgers swell with scarlet ink -

bitter, imagined want.

What vanity, that I dare think

to price Thy crimson font?

Have I not seen Thee save Thine own?

Nor heard my fathers' praise?

Nor from my mother's arms Thee known?

Nor loved Thy word and ways?

The kings of earth pass by in awe,

cry out in death's dismay,

led forth to scales of perfect law,

their lawless guilt to weigh,

behold the undeservèd love

which caused my soul to stand,

mercies which armies cannot move,

grace ne'er to understand.

My blessings have I counted, Lord,

and weep for dour shame.

One gift beggars ny soul t'afford:

to bear Thy precious Name.

Yet one by one my blessings mount,

swelling to skies unseen,

while I despair, delight to count

each mercy in-between!

~

AMDG

Communion Hymn

O! Church of God, confess! Your appetite for sin

has left no place within for peace to satisfy.

Turn down your lustful eye; this table laid in grace

with broken bread embrace and, for your folly, weep!

Repent! Repent! Dare not despise His holy Word.

O, Church of God, repent! This table is the Lord's.

Consider, holy saint; your least-lov'd brother eats.

The Spirit now completes in him what has begun

in you. This cup is one; we share one yielded wine

as branches of one Vine, and of one Father sons.

Regard! Regard! Made perfect by one binding grace!

O, saint of God, regard! The cross bids us embrace!

O! Bride of Christ, sing praise! Your wedding feast draws near;

The dusk of bitter tear and dawn of love's accord.

Jesus, our Groom and Lord has promised to prepare

an eternal table there for those who here partake!

Rejoice! Rejoice! You wait not, labor not, in vain!

O, Bride of Christ, rejoice! 'Til Jesus comes again!

AMDG

Another Funereal Hymn

Abide with Me, My son. The yield

of heav'n's twelve-bearing tree - 

whose boughs will see the nations healed - 

is yours in guarantee.

Your virgin love is precious gold

for which, by which, are you taken hold!

Rise up, My saint, to overcome -

a crown awaits your brow.

Though pain and suffering did come,

and death did I allow,

the second death you will not see.

Put on your immortality!

Eat of the hidden bread, My child

who passed 'neath Satan's throne,

your name by pagan priests reviled.

A new name, grav'n in stone,

bears witness that you never quailed,

and your reward will never fail!

Stand, little priest. On ev'ry side
My zealous wrath must fall;

no whoredom should bestain My bride,

nor sorc'ries gain My hall.

The Morning Star has lit your way;

your iron rod will shatter clay!

Lay down the yoke, slave for My sake

who strengthened what remained,

whose hopeful spirit watched, awake -

white garments you have gained.

Your blood-writ name, by Me confessed,

is sworn by YHWH ever-blest!

My witness, through the open door

no pow'r may bar your way,

nor steal your crown, nor trial you more.

Our Names you will display.

Who spurned the synagogue of Hell - 

Come! Ceaseless in My temple dwell!

Sit down, O man, with Christ your King

upon that throne I earned.

Your words refreshed - a living spring;

your deeds with fervor burned.

Your ears heard, now your eyes will see.

Well done. I AM yours eternally!

~

AMDG

Written on the occasion of the death of a Saint.

Congregation

Arrayed in aether, cloaked in weighty void

the heavens declare Your righteousness. These stars

attend allotted lines, appointed hours,

by purpose anchored; yea, by splendor buoyed.

Bedecked in bulb and blade and blossom sweet

this garden, sown below, her bounty bears;

her generations stars and sand. They, heirs

of first command, fill all her spheres replete.

Concealed from chastening light and cleft from breath,

from grave-quiet lips Your Name receives due fear;

a trembling toward the day You will appear

to reconcile all faithless debt in death.

So,    

                                           Adam, son divine and grace-attired:

what worship by your order is required?

~

AMDG

5.2.20

Praise Jesus Christ the hallowed bread

who, daily, shows Himself enough;

who, broken, feeds the hung'ring host

and wholly sates their uttermost.

Not "what," but "Whom?" - High heav'nly stuff

to resurrect the starven dead.

Praise Jesus Christ, true worship's light

whom darkenss has not overcome - 

Proceeding from His thund'ring throne,

consuming ox and wood and stone.

Where He proceeds must night succumb,

blind men receive unclouded sight.

Praise Jesus Christ the certain gate.

Foundations set in faultless rock

hold fast against presumptive claim.

His own pass through, each called by name -

Obediently, in faith they knock

to enter YHWH's vast estate.

Praise Jesus Christ who guards His sheep

from precipice, or lion's teeth.

He leads to lea and living spring

and casts the shadow of His wing

to comfort we who rest beneath,

entrusting Him our peace to keep.

Praise Jesus Christ who conquered death,

the doom of dust. Grave Sheol's deep 

He stirred to praise with lordly cries,

for joy bid faithful sons "Arise!

Forsake Gehenna's smould'ring heap!

Ascend, imbued with Spirit-breath!"

Praise Jesus Christ, unerring way - 

by lantern lit, by star known true - 

whose uncut stones a hope foretold,

a giving way from clay to gold.

Saint's silenced steps will ring anew

on YHWH's great and terrible day.

Praise Jesus Christ the laden vine,

well-dressed, so bearing heavy fruit.

Pruned deadwood stokes an earnest fire

whose incense rises ever high'r

while branches grafted in the Root

avail a lavish yield of wine.

Praise Jesus Christ, the great I AM,

slain from the world's foundation! He

who was, and is, and is to come,

subjecting all, has overcome!

Heav'n, earth, and grave give trembling knee

to Jesus Christ the risen lamb!

Sonnet

O!                                                      

Holy is the God of riven flesh

who gathered to His Name an hallowed tithe

ere setting in the felling of His scythe,

enfolding Adam’s severed get to thresh.

How faithful is the Lord of spattered blood –

the life thereof enduing oath with breath –

unto the purchased merit of His death,

on which the witness-stone is firmly stood.

And sovereign Wisdom makes the guarantee

of utt’rance from sincere and callow nerve;

consumes the curse of faithlessness deserved,

blows blessing o’er a child’s audacity.

So three unbreaking strands perform a cord.

So broken man is bound by living Word.

~

“I will tell you what I will do and what I will not do. I will not serve that in which I no longer believe, whether it calls itself my home, my fatherland, or my church: and I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can, using for my defense the only arms I allow myself to use -- silence, exile, and cunning.” ― James Joyce

Sonnet

Bid me not: Speak! My blessings? Few remain,

though imprecations clamour at the hour.

One Word already answers rebels’ glower,

and I will not feed malcontent disdain.

No. I was made to speak, if not be heard.

What difference, then, to sermonize the sea?

Testify to a mountain? Teach a tree

to parse on its own tattooed skin a Word?

No. Ear and tongue alike for glory serve.

So, wants my grey betwixt surpassing wit –

an iron spur, a gleaming silver bit

to lead, by dint of deeds, where each deserve.

No. Horse and chariot prove a faithless tool.

As I must speak, I will do as Your fool.

~

On Grieving

Give Sorrow meat commensurate to all

the grace allowed by hospitality.

Her plate with Maror garnish liberally,

lest she devour your coffers in her gall.

And dance with her; one turn around the floor

to minor key and awkward step. Forfend

that she should name the song; hers does not end

ere tears are spent and hearts left mean and poor.

Pour her a measured glass of heady wine.

Come! Toast her misbegotten dreams and health!

I’ll buy the bottle, drink the rest myself;

Her visitation’s bill, in part, make mine.

Tomorrow let her speed her noisome way.

Content may have her room and, welcome, stay.

~

12.18.18

Written on the occasion of a pair of deaths close to friends.

sonnet

The worst of it is how you blithely flit

upon the moistened corner of my eye;

unbidden swing on lilt of thoughtless sigh,

jig windily from ghastly braided wit.

The worst of it is in the madd’ning itch –

red runnels ragged-torn mayn’t exhume

your disquiet from sallow, nerveless tomb.

False life makes jest of hope with every twitch.

The worst of it is startling from your breast

to echoes of my name; their pleading chains

encumb’ring day by haunted nights’ remains –

cold iron lies your lordly eyes attest.

The worst of it; the sweetness of your breath

would charm, but for the honest reek of death.

~

The Shepherd's Voice

 The sheep will know the Shepherd's voice,

be led to living brook and lea

in valleys green with all good things,

their hearts to know satiety.

They quench their thirst by shaded springs

and never fail for want, but blest

to enter His untroubled fold,

lay down their heads in easy rest.

The flock will know the Shepherd's voice

and through the vale of doubt and dread

no stone will turn beneath their hoof

nor chasm snare them, faithfully led.

Their wending, narrow way is proof

against the sucking bog and mire;

nor hungry darkness swallow those

who trace the Shepherd's lantern-fire.

A lamb will know his Shepherd's voice

and heed no stranger's thieving tongue.

He, taught his own peculiar name,

leaps joyfully to hear it sung.

Nor wanders far to guilt and shame -

a gentle staff corrects his head

to fields where lost and rescued lambs

before him have been safely led.

The wolves sure know the Shepherd's voice - 

they howl in trembling fear and rage. 

Their flanks have felt His staff and sling,

bear wounds no balm can e'er assuage.

He spoke to spoil their gnash and sting,

He sings and scatters wide their horde!

No precious lamb have they devoured;

Their teeth have shattered on His Word.

The Lamb did know His Shepherd's voice -

loved hearing it, loved to obey.

Silent, raised no complaining bleat,

nor from His holy side could stray

ere, found both flawless and complete,

The Shepherd gave Him to the Priest

who proffered, one and once for all,

a fragrant, flaming altar-feast.

~

AMDG

11.4.18

MOUNTAINS BOW

Stones of faithful testimony - 

by the Word of YHWH raised - 

faultless, witness Christ unchanging,

He by their unfailing praised.

Yet shall mountains fail and falter,

crumbling, fill the eye-dark sea

ere the Word of second advent

bids all realms to bend the knee.

Forth the prophets' cry is echoing:

"make ye straight the desert way!"

Valleys, rise to meet His footfall.

Heights, your crowns in fealty lay. 

Wastes and wilds make true your highways,

leave no stone to strike His toe.

You are cast to service glory;

every lesser task forego.

Christ shall ride in doom and triumph,

peaks shall pave His saints' parade.

'Neath the tread of True and Faithful

shall all soaring tor be laid.

Holy Zion bows her mantle;

shall be raised a lasting throne!

Humble sons of mercy's warrant

worship God in Christ alone.

~

A friend commissioned this one. He's been putting together a tune for it. Maybe when he gets something worked up I'll be able to link to it from here. 

AMDG

Some additional verses

Crown Him the royal Priest

who, from Golgotha's slope,

baptized His own, from great to least,

in one enduring hope.

From Zion's holy hill

a better blood He pleads;

His Father's purpose to fulfill,

Christ lives and intercedes.

Crown Him who, crowned with thorns

and scourged with strange offense,

despised the Cainic vault of scorn

which mocked His innocence.

For glory's greater weight

the weight of sin became

to crucify a world of hate,

wrest victory from shame.

Crown Him with thankful prayer

and gird Him 'round with psalms.

Anoint Him resurrection's heir

and pave His path with palms.

With worship wash His feet.

Cry Hallelujah! Bring

your crowns to lay at mercy's seat

where reigns our worthy King!

Crown Him the Lord of Song;

He, for His own delight

hath circumscribed the dusty tongue,

hath set its urge alight.

With eloquence hath stirred

His prophets' borrowed art,

a worthy anthem 'round to gird

those saints of joyful heart.

Crown Him the serpent's bane;

no more to kill, nor steal,

the dragon's pow'r lies crushed and vain

beneath His bruisèd heel.

He ring'd Behemoth's nose,

He hook'd Leviathan,

ere both, by sanguine blows laid low,

are made to cry Amen!

Crown Him the Lord of wine,

the feast of heart's increase -

one bread of fellowship divine,

one cup of perfect peace.

Christ reconciled our race

to God the Trinity;

One table laid with fulsome grace,

one host of unity.

A hymn, a story, and a challenge, part II

I believe we've received the votes and guesses we're going to, so here is the reveal and the results, with a little commentary for free. I got votes from 13 individuals, plus the three of us who participated in the writing each voted for our favorites among those written by the other two.

We'll start with the voting totals:

Stanza         Votes

1                   5

2                   8

3                   4

4                   6

5                   4

6                   6

7                   6

8                   10

9                   4

10                 4

11                 5

12                 4

13                 1

14                 7

15                 2

16                 3

17                 0

18                 6

                     85 votes overall

The overall winning stanzas, thus, are #8 (10 votes), #2 (8 votes), #14 (7 votes), and #4/#6/#7/#18 (tied in 4th with 6 votes each). That's a total of 49 votes (58%) between those seven, compared to only 36 votes spread out over the other eleven. That makes for fairly strong winners. 

Next, we'll break it down by author: The following six verses were written by the participant we're calling "Y": 2, 10, 12, 15, 16, 17 - a total of 21 votes. These verses were:

2. Crown Him the Lord of War,

Who trains His children’s hands,

To wield in prayer His Holy Pow’r,

And set immortal bands.

The army of His claimed,

Eyes closed on bended knee.

Marches forward in His Name,

To certain victory!

10. Crown Him the Lord of Rest,

Our calm amidst the storm,

The Living Fire inside the breast,

To keep the saint’s heart warm.

The world’s tempest rage,

Cannot prevail our Shield,

A Refuge firm for every Age,

To which all furies yield.

12. Crown Him the Righteous Judge!

His justice swift and true.

From those whose hearts grace could not budge,

A recompense is due.

The Cross our hope alone,

We join to Him Who died,

For our sin did our Lord atone,

We rise His justified.

15. Crown Him the Lord of heaven,

His hands built Creation,

And sustain ‘til the Day is given,

When matter is undone,

Creation sings and yearns,

Deeper than words construe,

Hast’ning the Day that He returns,

And all things are made new.

16. Crown Him the Lord of Truth,

Who knows all that could be,

Omniscient of both all that is,

And all potentially.

His words transcend all time,

Forever resolute,

Sacred, clear, pure, and sublime,

Not subject to refute.

17. Crown Him the Holy King,

Let Israel exult,

Bearing high holy praise to sing,

And two-edged swords to cull.

His vengeance on nations,

The judgment writ made right,

An honor for the godly ones,

Those holy in His sight.

As you can probably tell, Spiritual Warfare is a constant and running theme throughout this particular set of verses. "Lord of War" came in second place, I think for good reason. 

The next six were written by "P": 1, 5, 6, 9, 13, 18 - a total of 26 votes. I'm presenting them in the order in which "P" submitted them, for what should be apparent reasons.

5. Crown Him the Lord of Beasts,

that Lion once foretold

to spring from Judah’s loins, the least

and greatest to enfold:

Leviathan He made

to sport upon the sea;

the sparrow He His Father’s aid

doth give, and cares for me.

9. Crown Him the Lord of Men:

their tribes and peoples all,

who friend or foe shall see Him then

and at His feet shall fall,

when comes He to redress

to all men what is due,

to sit in glorious righteousness

and judge with justice true!

13. Crown Him the Lord of Floods

whose limits He did write,

and quiets them that tenderest buds

may grow to glory bright,

and by the mightiest storms

drives men to mind His will;

He cleanses who humbly reforms;

who thirsts, will more than fill.

18. Crown Him the Lord of Fire

and Winds, His servants fleet:

they to and fro in gust and gyre

His orders all complete:

to warm the faithful heart,

to stir upon the way,

to prove the hopeful builder’s art

against the coming Day.

6. Crown Him the Lord of Earth

established from of old,

whose massive rocks and rolling girth

His Word does yet uphold!

He sends the sun and rain,

He man and beast doth feed,

the elements doth wisely train

to serve them in their need.

1. Crown Him the Lord of Heaven!

All men your hearts employ!

His sight the faith of the forgiven,

His nearness all their joy!

A Sabbath rest remains

for those who will endure

to hymn the King in holy strains

of praise forevermore!

These six obviously come in pairs - beasts and men, water and fire, earth and heaven. "P" also managed to stuff the four classical elements in three stanzas. I was a little disappointed that his "Lord of Fire" stanza didn't get more love than it did - it was one of my favorites. I'm still writing additional stanzas just for fun, and I find myself reluctant to treat the subject of the Lord of Angels, as I think he pretty much nailed it. Still, it made it into the top tier, along with "Lord of Earth".

The final six are mine, "S" - 3, 4, 7, 8, 11, 14 - a total of 38 votes

7. Crown Him the Lord of Wrath, His justice rebels' doom. Vainglorious idols raisèd hath aroused Him to consume false flesh and fallen lights in zeal for His own Name with everlasting empty night and never-failing flame.

14. Crown Him the Lord of Joy, who rules our Sabbath rest. All blessings toil in His employ whose saints, unceasing blest, lay down their striving vain, take up the yoke of praise, ere they by alms of grace attain delight of endless days.

4. Crown Him the Living Word by whom all worlds are wrought; dividing as a naked sword, divining heart and thought. That great Amen shall shake, shall split the lab'ring Earth, bend every knee for His Name's sake to rule by sovereign worth.

8. Crown Him the corner-stone whose covenant endures. Whose oath relies on Him alone, and promise reassures those sons of faith, preserved 'til proved of more than gold; Salvation, full and undeserved, His vow from ages old.

3. Crown Him the Bridegroom, fair, whose promised virgin bride once purchased, gently now prepared, will evermore abide to grace her Husband's head with all her charms, endowed by Him who for her virtue bled with sacred mantle bowed.

11. Crown Him the Lord of heav'n, which throne befits His rule; whence all dominion e'er is giv'n below, on Earth His stool. Bless Him, ye priestly race! His all-authority ordains the mystery of grace that crowns His majesty.

"Corner-stone" was the overall favorite, with ten votes. That kind of amuses me, since it wasn't one of my original submissions. I had six in, then at the last minute I scrapped one out and replaced it with "Corner-stone", and that seems to have been the right thing to do. I'm a little disappointed that "Lord of Wrath" didn't fare better - it's easily my favorite of my own submissions - but I can understand why it wouldn't necessarily be the most popular. I tried to focus on the twin themes of Christ's dominion and eternity. Of mine, 4, 7, 8, and 14 made it into the top seven.

Three people took a stab at assigning the verses to their authors, all people who know the three authors personally. One got 6 correct (33%), another got 7 (39%) and the third got 8 (44%). She will be getting a prize, and I'm going to make "Y" pay for it since he got his submissions in late.

Thanks to those who participated. We had fun doing this. As I said, I'm still writing stanzas (3 done, 3 more partial) and I'll post them at some point. As I said in the former post, feel free to participate with votes, guesses, commentary/critique/conversation, or even with your own stanzas.

AMDG