Freely forever

>>>>++<<<<

C r o w n e d   C r o s s

St. Helena's Parish Church Cemetery

Beaufort, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

One day when heaven was filled with His praises

One day when sin was as black as could be

Jesus came forth to be born of a virgin

Dwelt among men, my example is He.

Living He loved me, dying he saved me

Buried He carried my sins far away

Rising He justified, freely forever

One day He's coming, O glorious day!

One day they led Him up Calvary's mountain

One day they nailed Him to die on the tree

Suffering anguish, despised and rejected

Bearing our sins, my Redeemer is He.

One day they left Him alone in the garden

One day He rested, from suffering free

Angels came down o'er His tomb to keep vigil

Hope of the hopeless, my Savior is He.

One day the grave could conceal Him no longer

One day the stone rolled away from the door

Then He arose, over death He had conquered

Now is ascended, my Lord evermore.

One day the trumpet will sound for His coming

One day the skies with His glories will shine

Wonderful day, my beloved ones bringing

Glorious Savior, this Jesus is mine.

Living He loved me, dying he saved me

Buried He carried my sins far away

Rising He justified, freely forever

One day He's coming, O glorious day!

> John Wilbur Chapman <

>>>>++<<<<

In the end of the sabbath, as it began to dawn toward the first day of the week,

came Mary Magdalen and the other Mary to see the sepulchre.

And, behold, there was a great earthquake: for the angel of the Lord

descended from heaven, and came and rolled back the stone

from the door, and sat upon it.

His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow:

And for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men.

And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye:

for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified.

He is not here: for he is risen, as he said.

Come, see the place where the Lord lay.

And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead;

and, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him:

lo, I have told you.

And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with fear

and great joy; and did run to bring his disciples word.

And as they went to tell his disciples, behold, Jesus met them,

saying, All hail. And they came and held him by the feet,

and worshipped him.

Matthew 28:1-9

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Sunday

Raised softly to the ceilings

>>>>++<<<<

I f   Y o u   B u i l d   I t

Rose Hill Cemetery

Macon, Georgia

>>>>++<<<<

I would not paint -- a picture --

I'd rather be the One

Its bright impossibility

To dwell -- delicious -- on --

And wonder how the fingers feel

Whose rare -- celestial -- stir --

Evokes so sweet a Torment --

Such sumptuous -- Despair --

I would not talk, like Cornets --

I'd rather be the One

Raised softly to the Ceilings --

And out, and easy on --

Through Villages of Ether --

Myself endued Balloon

By but a lip of Metal --

The pier to my Pontoon --

Nor would I be a Poet --

It's finer -- own the Ear --

Enamored -- impotent -- content --

The License to revere,

A privilege so awful

What would the Dower be,

Had I the Art to stun myself

With Bolts of Melody!

> Emily Dickinson <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Saturday

I stay my haste

>>>>++<<<<

W e l c o m e

Old Sheldon Church Ruins

Yemassee, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me.

I stay my haste, I make delays,
For what avails this eager pace?
I stand amid the eternal ways,
And what is mine shall know my face.

Asleep, awake, by night or day,
The friends I seek are seeking me;
No wind can drive my bark astray,
Nor change the tide of destiny.

What matter if I stand alone?
I wait with joy the coming years;
My heart shall reap where it hath sown,
And garner up its fruit of tears.

The waters know their own and draw
The brook that springs in yonder height;
So flows the good with equal law
Unto the soul of pure delight.

The stars come nightly to the sky;
The tidal wave unto the sea;
Nor time, nor space, nor deep, nor high,
Can keep my own away from me.

> John Burroughs <

>>>>++<<<<

Dedicated to the memory of

Mary Elizabeth Cassidy Sandifer

October 15, 1918 - April 6, 1981

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Friday

The heart must pause to breathe

>>>>++<<<<

C h a i n e d

Vintage Wedding Dress Detail

Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

So, we'll go no more a-roving

So late into the night,

Though the heart be still as loving,

And the moon be still as bright.

For the sword outwears its sheath,

And the soul wears out the breast,

And the heart must pause to breathe,

And love itself have rest.

Though the night was made for loving,

And the day returns too soon,

Yet we'll go no more a-roving

By the light of the moon.

> George Gordon, Lord Byron <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Thursday

Anxious of eternity

>>>>++<<<<

A   N e w   G r e e n   D e a l

Harry Easterling Bridge

Peak, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

Is there another world for this frail dust
To warm with life and be itself again?
Something about me daily speaks there must,
And why should instinct nourish hopes in vain?
'Tis nature's prophesy that such will be,
And everything seems struggling to explain
The close sealed volume of its mystery.
Time wandering onward keeps its usual pace
As seeming anxious of eternity,
To meet that calm and find a resting place.
E'en the small violet feels a future power
And waits each year renewing blooms to bring,
And surely man is no inferior flower
To die unworthy of a second spring?

> John Clare <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Wednesday

I know what I know

>>>>++<<<<

P a r a l l a x   V i e w i n g

Green Mount Cemetery

Baltimore, Maryland

>>>>++<<<<

To what purpose, April, do you return again?
Beauty is not enough.
You can no longer quiet me with the redness
Of little leaves opening stickily.
I know what I know.
The sun is hot on my neck as I observe
The spikes of the crocus.
The smell of the earth is good.
It is apparent that there is no death.
But what does that signify?
Not only under ground are the brains of men
Eaten by maggots.
Life in itself
Is nothing,
An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.
It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,
April
Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

> Edna St. Vincent Millay <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Tuesday

Put it in the soul calculator

>>>>++<<<<

I r i s   Y o u   W e r e   H e r e

Purple Petals

Columbia, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

Until I find a name
I will not put it in the soul calculator
I will leave it free and open and unnamed
And not limit my expectations for the kind of person
That goes in one direction of the wind
I will keep all lines of the wind open
And place all my days free and empty
And re-envision what it means to be unencumbered
Or bereft
Not crying but the expanse of numbers
That go beyond the grave to what is left
And it may be true
I said it could be true
That the sunny days do stick to walls
And then enter you
It may be true that the purple bells do chime
Everyday you let them
It may be true that the sweet juice
I put across my lips would not be my last
But that the nights could get better and better
Until the evil is banished until the day
When the sun would crush it anyway
It was true without a set of things like letters
It was true the air was free and open
And I saw things as they were
Without violence
For the first time

> Dorothea Lasky <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Monday :: Happy April

So despised by the world

>>>>++<<<<

R i s e   U p

Pleasant Forest Cemetery

Knoxville, Tennessee

>>>>++<<<<

On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross

The emblem of suff'ring and shame

And I love that old cross, where the dearest and best

For a world of lost sinners was slain.

Oh that old rugged cross so despised by the world

Has a wondrous attraction for me

For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above

To bear it to dark Calvary.

In that old rugged cross stained with blood so diving

A wondrous beauty I see

For 'twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died

To pardon and sanctify me.

To the old rugged cross I will ever be true

Its shame and reproach gladly bear

Then he'll call me someday to my home far away

Where his glory forever I'll share.

So I'll cherish the old rugged cross

Till my trophies at last I lay down

I will cling to the old rugged cross

And exchange it someday for a crown.

> George Bennard <

>>>>++<<<<

For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again,

even so them also which sleep in Jesus

will God bring with him.

I Thessalonians 4:14

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Sunday :: Happy Easter

Flings in paradise

>>>>++<<<<

H a n g i n g   i n   T h e r e

Old Sheldon Church Ruins

Yemassee, South Carolina

>>>>++<<<<

The Love a Life can show Below

Is but a filament, I know,

Of that diviner thing

That faints upon the face of Noon --

And smites the Tinder in the Sun --

And hinders Gabriel's Wing --

'Tis this -- in Music -- hints and sways --

And far abroad on Summer days --

Distils uncertain pain --

'Tis this enamors in the East --

And tints the Transit in the West

With harrowing Iodine --

'Tis this -- invites -- appalls -- endows --

Flits -- glimmers -- proves -- dissolves --

Returns -- suggests -- convicts -- enchants --

Then -- flings in Paradise --

> Emily Dickinson <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Saturday

Hope again elastic springs

>>>>++<<<<

W i n g   T i m e

Rose Hill Cemetery

Macon, Georgia

>>>>++<<<<

Life, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall?

Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily,
Enjoy them as they fly!

What though Death at times steps in
And calls our Best away?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway?
Yet hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair!

> Charlotte Brontë <

>>>>++<<<<

Happy Friday