Ode-M-G

In a year of doing crossword puzzles I've learned a lot.  When I have finished the medium, hard, and expert puzzles, or when I want to fall asleep,  I do an occasional easy one.  Almost without exception, easy crosswords all have one clue in common:  tributary poem, lyric poem or Keats poem--ode.  I remember the term from both poetry classes and a humanities class where I had to be able to recognize Beethoven's  Ode to Joy.  What a masterpiece.  You can hear it here.

I was thinking about that yesterday during church.  When we sing before the sacrament, there are lots of songs that have more verses than we finish.  I often read the extra verses that I'm not familiar with to try to concentrate on the purpose of what I'm doing.  I'm always impressed by the lyrics that we neglect because of time restraints.  I wonder if I wrote a poem about someone and their life's accomplishments, would I want only the first four stanzas to be read?  Probably not. 

Here's an example:

1. Behold the great Redeemer die,
A broken law to satisfy.
He dies a sacrifice for sin,
He dies a sacrifice for sin,
That man may live and glory win.

2. While guilty men his pains deride,
They pierce his hands and feet and side;
And with insulting scoffs and scorns,
And with insulting scoffs and scorns,
They crown his head with plaited thorns.

3. Although in agony he hung,
No murm’ring word escaped his tongue.
His high commission to fulfill,
His high commission to fulfill,
He magnified his Father’s will.

4. “Father, from me remove this cup.
Yet, if thou wilt, I’ll drink it up.
I’ve done the work thou gavest me,
I’ve done the work thou gavest me;
Receive my spirit unto thee.”

_____________________________

This is where the song cuts off.  We never sing the rest.  There are so many like this--especially and specifically about Christ.  Maybe there's just too much material--we could never cover it all at once,  but the last 2 verses are so meaningful.

5. He died, and at the awful sight
The sun in shame withdrew its light!
Earth trembled, and all nature sighed,
Earth trembled, and all nature sighed
In dread response, “A God has died!”

6. He lives—he lives. We humbly now
Around these sacred symbols bow
And seek, as Saints of latter days,
And seek, as Saints of latter days,
To do his will and live his praise.

Text: Eliza R. Snow, 1804–1887

I think I'm going to write some Odes of my own to honor the Savior, my parents, my husband, my kids, maybe even nature or my country.