Showing posts with label Alfred Osmond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alfred Osmond. Show all posts

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Alfred Osmond on Exaltation

The following is a brief excerpt from Alfred Osmond's May 1890 poem "Two Fires", found in Alfred Osmond, The Poetical Works of Alfred Osmond (Salt Lake City, UT: George Q. Cannon and Sons, 1891), 41:
A man created like his God,
If he a certain path will trod,
In time may shine the same as He -
That is, frail man a God can be.
Yes, he may reach that lofty height,
If he will follow truth's bright light;
But let him turn from truth away,
And love the night and scorn the day,
No living thing e'er could or can
Descend so low as wondrous man.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

The Battle Between Truth and Error

Alfred Osmond's poem "The Battle Between Truth and Error", dated 5 September 1891, is here reprinted from Alfred Osmond, The Poetical Works of Alfred Osmond (Salt Lake City, UT: George Q. Cannon and Sons, 1891), 211-212:
Hark! the hoarse, dull drum of war
Sends its pealing tones of thunder,
To the nations near and far,
Filling all the world with wonder!

Let the nations close their eyes,
But a change is surely coming.
God has heard His children's cries,
'Tis the angels who are drumming!

Truth and Error don't agree;
Both are strong but one must perish.
God has made His children free,
They may fight for what they cherish.

But the battle must go on,
Till the blood-red flag of Error
Shall be torn and trampled down,
Then will cease, "The Reign of Terror."

There are those who will not fight,
But who, serpent-like, are crawling
In the dust where men of might,
Pierced with shot and shall are falling.

Let the war-drum wildly beat,
Let its thunders roll and rattle!
None but cowards will retreat,
Honor loves the field of battle!

Jesus Christ will never fall,
And His sword will ne'er be broken;
Saber stroke and rifle ball
Harm Him not - a God has spoken.

And the snow-white flag of Truth
Will in time o'er earth be waving;
Right still stands in strength of youth,
He will win what man is craving.

When the hoarse war-drum shall sleep,
When all evil powers are shaken,
May we have no cause to weep
For the part that we have taken.

May we greet our noble King
In the mansions of His glory;
Nor feel conscience's painful sting,
When we tell Him this life's story.