‘O Thou Fount of Joy, I Praise Thee’ and Other Poetry by Scáth Beorh The Society February 27, 2015 Beauty, Poetry O Thou Fount of Joy, I Praise Thee In my dark night He brought His joy by an ancient melody. I was young then, did not know that what He taught me by degree was a way to remain with Him when the storms of each new year gathered o’erhead in defiance as if Death were that to fear. Then came time for valediction and I wandered from His sight. I was dragged then hither, tither ‘til my eyes could find no light. Ev’ry path which first seemed easy later proved to be a mire. Then I heard Him, softly, clearly, calling me Home from my dire circumstances, false romances, hateful word and hateful hand; for my fear had made me wonder if there truly was a land filled with joy and readied for the one submitting all to Love. Had I listened and not trusted in my self but looked above I would have seen there in my sorrow that a kingdom overlays this dark valley where death lingers, disappearing in our praise. O, Thou Fount of Joy, I humbly give my very life to Thee. Use me as Thou will, and guide me ev’ry step ‘til I will be in Thy Presence, there to never leave again Thy sweet embrace. I am saddened for believing in a lesser source of Grace. O, my Shepherd, how I love Thee— I now give my all to Thee. Waking, sleeping, I am yearning that Thy Light burn bright in me. For My Often Forlorn Love O, how I would lift her up on fiery wings— take her high above this putrid motley state where the best of us do lack in all good things… and the worst lie passionate and filled with hate. Comrade of the Bridegroom is she, as am I. So, it is the voice of Him that she must heed— yet if I save her, she will love me though she try to love Him—vain ancestry then meet her need. Then I would take her upon my burning wings— wings set blazing with the fires of godless Hell, for I would pillage her soul, ravage all good things that the Bridegroom could have given her, and well. Scáth Beorh is a writer of Ulster and Cherokee ancestries whose books include the High Fantasy novel Black Fox In Thin Places (Emby Press, 2013), the story collections Children & Other Wicked Things (JWK Fiction, 2013) and Always After Thieves Watch (Wildside Press, 2010), the Fantasy novel October House (Emby Kids, 2015), and the poetic study Dark Sayings Of Old (JWK, 2013). Raised in New Orleans and West Florida, and having made trips to India and Ireland, he now makes a home with his joyful and imaginative wife Ember in a quaint “turn of the century” neighborhood on the Atlantic Coast of Florida. Feature Image: Dante’s Paradiso by Gustave Dore. Related Post ‘A Cello Knows’ and Other Poetry by Andrew Todd ... A Cello Knows Amidst the smoke and light and laughter Along the smiles and cheers thereafter A sound is bled, wrung free from strings It bounds an... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.