poetry in the classical style, in generally pleasant themes
When the day runs together
and the evening streams in
through the quiet without
and the mind within
the torrent
the haste
the shallowair waste.
Is there joy in the gift of a life rush-spent?
It fearfully wearies the eyes and swift
-ly erodes the skill of division and rest
a mess of stressful somnolence
that holds a zomian line as plight
or pioneering push, for fight:
"Expand the home,
the life,
Shalom"
But naught behind
and naught before,
no gain we find
amassing more.
Creator God of blessings great,
O Fount of life within my mate!
You knit such wonders small and neat
your mighty power must complete.
Be pleased to form, where none can peer,
the baby’s bones and spirit. Steer
and safe preserve my wife from ill
and frights which might this heartbeat still.
Please bless this child in flesh and mind.
Elect and reckon wholly thine,
on loan to us to love and rear;
endue its heart with holy fear.
Do sanctify from life’s first light
this cherished child to bless your sight
and grant my wife your Spirit’s care,
with patient faith to help her bear
the punishment for sin of Eve,
then after labour, Lord relieve
and cover pain with greater joy
as first she holds our girl or boy.
Lord, set this babe to cry out strong!
And let its joyful days be long,
all lived beneath the Father’s wing
with hope and faith in Christ the King.
Joe Spring writes 