#isaac watts

[thedailyfasola]

Super Secret St Thomas Birthday Verse:

Hap-py Birth-day to-oo you

May all your dreams come true

May God direct you all the way

To Heavn's bri-ight glo-rious day

[sunbleachedlacemaker]

People that do sacred harp with some frequency may be aware of a game called Hide From Isaac Watts. For those of you who don't know, the premise of this is for a group of people to open their Sacred Harp Hymnals and if you land of one of the many songs by Isaac Watts, you are out that round until one player remains.

Reading Moby Dick there is a chapter reviewing preparations before sailing away, and Ishmael mentions that the Owner-Captain Bildad has forbidden the singing of bawdy songs on his vessel and said Owner's sister donates a Watts hymnal to every crew member.

So it seems that even in other books I cannot hide from Isaac Watts

[icannotbejondenden47]

As we become soldiers of Christ and resolve to live in earnest, we must reckon upon opposition and prepare to endure hardness in the practice of our duties.

Isaac Watts

[liskantope]

Today's randomly-stumbled-upon fact that feels worthy of being shared with my fellow Tumblr-users:

Isaac Watts, the guy who wrote the Christmas carol "Joy to the World" in 1719, showed a proclivity for coming up with rhymes as a child in the late 1600's. When asked why he was keeping his eyes open while reciting a prayer, he impertinently replied with the couplet

A little mouse for want of stairs ran up a rope to say its prayers.

When this answer earned him corporal punishment, he cried out

Oh father, father, pity take And I will no more verses make!

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

To be angry about trifles is mean and childish; to rage and be furious is brutish; and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of devils; but to prevent and suppress rising resentment is wise and glorious, is manly and divine.

Isaac Watts

[mvaljean525]

How doth the little busy bee Improve each shining hour, And gather honey all the day From every opening flower.

How skilfully she builds her cell! How neat she spreads the wax! And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes.

In works of labour or of skill, I would be busy too; For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do.

In books, or work, or healthful play, Let my first years be passed, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.

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How Doth the Little Busy Bee

Isaac Watts  1674-1748

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Graphic - Ruth Speer

[walkswithmyfather]

“Joy To The World!”

“Joy to the world; the Lord is come;

Let earth receive her king:

Let every heart prepare Him room,

And Heaven and nature sing,

And Heaven and nature sing,

And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing.

Joy to the earth, the Savior reigns;

Let men their songs employ;

While fields and floods, rocks, hills and plains

Repeat the sounding joy,

Repeat the sounding joy,

Repeat, repeat, the sounding joy.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,

Nor thorns infest the ground;

He comes to make His blessings flow

Far as the curse is found,

Far as the curse is found,

Far as, far as, the curse is found.

He rules the world with truth and grace,

And makes the nations prove

The glories of His righteousness,

And wonders of His love,

And wonders of His love,

And wonders, wonders, of His love.”

(Isaac Watts, 1719)

[https://www.facebook.com/PostcardsFromGod]

[prolifeproliberty]

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of Glory died, My richest gain I count but loss And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast Save in the death of Christ, my God; All the vain things that charm me most, I sacrifice them to His blood.

See, from His head, His hands, His feet, sorrow and love flow mingled down. Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, Or thorns compose so rich a crown?

Were the whole realm of nature mine, That were a tribute far too small; Love so amazing, so divine, Demands my soul, my life, my all.

Have a Blessed Good Friday everyone!