Chanah Praises God


Chanah Praises God


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Hannah's Song

by James Vasquez

A prayer from deep within her soul,
Ascended to the throne,
Where God in majesty prevailed,
In hopes that he would own,

This forlorn woman's ardent plea,
That she might bear a son,
And of her scornful barrenness,
And ridicule be done.

Can God his children e'er deny,
Does he, in truth, have choice,
Entreated thus, so helplessly,
When by the faintest voice?

And weaned, young Samuel took his place,
And spent his youthful days,
Within the temple, thence to bear,
The God of Israel praise.

And Hannah, once her prayer appeased,
Broke forth in joyful song,
Which kindles still in grateful hearts,
And shall for ages long.

My heart rejoices in the Lord,
My horn is lifted high,
And o'er the enemy I boast,
Whose fateful end is nigh.

There is no other Holy One,
No Rock who can compare,
With you, O Lord, who stand alone,
And heav'n's bright raiment wear.

Let not proud men with loosened tongues,
Now arrogantly prate,
For he who knows all things one day,
Will justify their fate.

The warriors' bows has he destroyed,
But those who stumbled find,
With strength renewed God lifted them,
And to their needs inclined.

And those who were of stomach full,
And by their palates led,
Now sell themselves despondently,
And labor for their bread.

The hungry feel the pangs no more,
Of emptiness and thirst,
For God their plight has kindly seen,
And all their fate reversed.

The barren one of children now,
No less then sev'n has borne,
But she once ringed by many sons,
Alone, at last, will mourn.

The Lord is he who death refers,
Who makes alive again,
And whether Sheol or life beyond,
He renders the Amen.

For poverty and wealth alike,
Are by his hand bestowed,
The humbled and exalted, thus,
Are to his preference owed.

And from the dust the poor are raised,
From ash heaps those in need,
He seats them 'longside princes fair,
And those of noble breed.

The earth's foundations are his own,
On them the world is set,
The feet of all his saints he guards,
And stills the wicked yet.

For not by strength does one prevail,
Who'er shall God oppose,
His thundering voice at judgment will,
Their wanton deeds expose.

But to the king shall strength be giv'n,
In every wanting day,
The horn of God's anointed is,
Exalted now and aye.


from the February 2004 Edition of the Jewish Magazine




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