Fidele's Dirge

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.

Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.

Fear no more the lightning-flash
Nor the all-dreaded thunder-stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finish’d joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.

No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renowned be thy grave!

--William Shakespeare (1564-1616), from Cymbeline, Act IV, Scene 2

Prayer for Discipleship

Lord Jesus, as you still come to us, an eternal presence walking upon the moving waters of time, help us to recognize your aproach and come to you. Give us the faith and the courage to do things your way, even in these storm-tossed days when so many cry out for security or vengeance, or keep their mouths shut when they should speak. Help your people to be done with the old motivations, the sad, sin-scarred reactions of which we say, 'After all, it's only human nature, isn't it?' Let your Spirit lift us on to new levels of vision and forgiveness and trust, so that your church may show the world once again what it really means to be human.

In your name who are forever the Man of Nazareth and Son of the Living God, Jesus Christ our Lord.

-- Caryl Micklem and Roger Tomes, Prayer 119 from Contemporary Prayers for Church and School, 1975

Traditional Irish blessing, expanded

Deep peace of the running wave to you,
Deep peace of the flowing air to you,
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you,
Deep peace of the shining stars to you,
Deep peace of the Son of Peace to you.
May the road rise to meet you;
May the wind be always at your back;
May the sun shine warm upon your face;
May the rains fall softly upon your fields.
Until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Jubilate (Psalm 100)

All the earth cries out with joy to you,
serving you with gladness;
coming before you, singing for joy.
You, Creator of all, are God.
You made us; we belong to you.
We are your people, the sheep of your flock.
We go within your gates giving thanks,
entering your courts with songs of praise.
We give thanks to you and bless your name,
Indeed how good you are, O God,
eternal in your merciful love.
You are faithful from age to age.

--from the Community of St. Francis Office Book

Benediction

May the beauty of God
be reflected in your eyes,
the love of God
be reflected in your hands,
the wisdom of God
be reflected in your words,
and the knowledge of God
flow from your heart,
that all might see,
and seeing,  believe

John Birch, http://www.faithandworship.com/blessings_and_benedictions.html#ixzz4qjUOuv7c 

Crazy Jane on God

That lover of a night
Came when he would,
Went in the dawning light
Whether I would or no;
Men come, men go;
All things remain in God.

Banners choke the sky;
Men-at-arms tread;
Armoured horses neigh
In the narrow pass:
All things remain in God.

Before their eyes a house
That from childhood stood
Uninhabited, ruinous,
Suddenly lit up
From door to top:
All things remain in God.

I had wild Jack for a lover;
Though like a road
That men pass over
My body makes no moan
But sings on:
All things remain in God.

--William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

Prayer of St. Aiden of Landisfarne

Landisfarne (Holy Island)

Leave me alone with God as much as may be.
As the tide draws the waters close in upon the shore,
Make me an island, set apart,
alone with you, God, holy to you.

Then with the turning of the tide
prepare me to carry your presence to the busy world beyond,
the world that rushes in on me
till the waters come again and fold me back to you.

Landisfarne Priory and labyrinth

Community of Aiden and Hilda daily prayers
SaveSave

On the Maine Islands

No one will see

The light-stepping deer

When they come out from the alders

To look for windfalls

In the abandoned orchard.

No one will see the daylilies

The color of red foxes,

Waist-high coarse-textured lilies

That spring from the tumbled stones

Where there was once a farmhouse

And crowd around the cellar-hole

Now thick with raspberry-canes

Where hornets forage.

Mink live here, and voles,

There are seals on the offshore ledges

And herons with their harsh cries

Are nesting up in the woods,

But the man who was down by the shore

Scraping the hull of a boat

The woman feeding her hens

The child playing with fir-cones

Have been gone for a hundred years

And in the still harbor

There is no skiff but ours.

*          *          *

These granite and limestone islands,

These tops of flooded mountains

Are scattered all over the bay

Their clearings shining with wildflowers,

The live coals of hawkweed,

The daisies’ fiery white,

And finespun birdsongs shiver

Over their scraps of forest.

They’re moated with ice-cold channels

Deep enough for a whale,

Where once or twice a summer

With a slow throb of engines

The Swedish freighters go by.

When the sun comes out

The sky speaks blue

And the whole bay

Down to its least cove

Takes on a dazzle of blue,

Becomes a field of splendor.

*          *          *

High up over the harbor

Of the fishing village

On another island

Is St. Mary Star of the Sea,

Built by Italian stonecutters

Who came to work in the quarries

It’s a white frame building

The size of a one-room schoolhouse,

With six milky windows

And a low spire.

Below are the steep-pitched streets

And the fishermen’s wooden houses

With their stacks of lobster pots

Their granite garden walls

And their small gardens flaming

In the short northern summer.

Through St. Mary’s windows

Half open in the summer

We can see the harbor,

The water bluer than larkspur,

The sloping folds of granite.

An old Italian woman

Who gets to Mass early

Has come with dahlias and roses

And the stonecutters’ grandchildren

Carefully chant the Gloria

In their transparent voices

For the one who carved the islands

Has come to live among us,

And this is the house he has chosen,

St. Mary’s Star of the Sea.

--Anne Porter (1911-2011) from Living Things: Collected Poems (2006)

For the Indifferent

Crucifixion facade at the Basilica of La Sagrada Familia, Barcelona.

We pray thee for those who
amid all the knowledge of our day
are still without knowledge;
for those who hear not the sighs of the children that toil,
nor the sobs of such as are wounded
because others have made haste to be rich;
for those who have never felt
the hot tears of the mothers of the poor
that struggle vainly against poverty and vice.
Arouse them, we beseech thee,
from their selfish comfort,
and grant them the grace of social repentance.
Smite us all with the conviction
that for us ignorance is sin,
and that we are indeed our brothers' keepers
if our own hand has helped to lay him low.
Though increase of knowledge bring increase of sorrow,
may we turn without flinching to the light
and offer ourselves as instruments of thy spirit
in bringing order and beauty
out of disorder and darkness.

--Walter Rauschenbusch, from Prayers of the Social Awakening, 1909

Prayer of Confession

O God, who has given us light, and who grieves because we have so often loved darkness better; you have called us to follow that which is good, and to flee from that which is evil; and you know how, hour after hour, day after day, we have yielded to temptations in our path, have done that which you have forbidden, and have left undone the work you have given us to do. O You, whose voice of warning and love we have so little heeded, call us yet again, we beseech You; call us that we may answer and do your bidding, that we may go astray from You no more; but that, being comforted by your love, and upheld by your strength, we may fulfill our days upon earth forgiven and at peace with You.

-- adapted to modern language from R.C. Jones, A Book of Prayers (19th century)