Morning poems
/ page 301 of 310 /Psalm 110
© Isaac Watts
Jesus, our Lord, ascend thy throne,
And near the Father sit;
In Zion shall thy power be known,
And make thy foes submit.
Psalm 104
© Isaac Watts
My soul, thy great Creator praise:
When clothed in his celestial rays,
He in full majesty appears,
And, like a robe, his glory wears.
Psalm 103 part 2
© Isaac Watts
v.8-18
L. M.
God's gentle chastisement; or, His tender mercy to his people.
Hymn 81
© Isaac Watts
God, how endless is thy love!
Thy gifts are every evening new;
And morning mercies from above
Gently distill like early dew.
Hymn 80
© Isaac Watts
Thus far the Lord has led me on,
Thus far his power prolongs my days;
And every evening shall make known
Some fresh memorial of his grace.
Hymn 79
© Isaac Watts
God of the morning! at whose voice
The cheerful sun makes haste to rise,
And like a giant doth rejoice
To run his journey through the skies.
Hymn 50
© Isaac Watts
Now be the God of Isr'el blessed,
Who makes his truth appear;
His mighty hand fulfils his word,
And all the oaths he sware.
Hymn 2
© Isaac Watts
Ere the blue heav'ns were stretched abroad,
From everlasting was the Word:
With God he was; the Word was God,
And must divinely be adored.
Hymn 164
© Isaac Watts
Why should this earth delight us so?
Why should we fix our eyes
On these low grounds where sorrows grow,
And every pleasure dies ?
Hymn 146
© Isaac Watts
Go, worship at Immanuel's feet,
See in his face what wonders meet!
Earth is too narrow to express
His worth, his glory, or his grace.
New Mexico
© Charles Bukowski
I was fairly drunk when it
began and I took out my bottle and used it
along the way. I was reading a week or two after
Kandel and I did not look quite as
Cut While Shaving
© Charles Bukowski
I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night
Layover
© Charles Bukowski
Making love in the sun, in the morning sun
in a hotel room
above the alley
where poor men poke for bottles;
Gamblers All
© Charles Bukowski
you find the turn-off, drive through the most dangerous
part of town, feel momentarily wonderful as Mozart works
his way into your brain and slides down along your bones and
out through your shoes.
The House
© Charles Bukowski
They are building a house
half a block down
and I sit up here
with the shades down
Sleep
© Charles Bukowski
she was a short one
getting fat and she had once been
beautiful and
she drank the wine
Raw With Love
© Charles Bukowski
little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife