DETAILED ORDER OF SERVICE FOR WORLD HUMANIST DAY Orgon or piano: Eighteenth Century fanfar

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DETAILED ORDER OF SERVICE FOR WORLD HUMANIST DAY Orgon or piano: Eighteenth Century fanfare. Reader: Our ancient reading is from the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Come fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of repentance fling: The bird of Time has but a little way To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing. Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! Of threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain--This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End! Congregationsings: For the Beauty of the Earth For the beau-ty of the earth, For the splen-dor of the skies, For the love which from our birth O-ver and a-round us lies; Joy-ful-ly to life we raise This our song of grate-ful praise. For the joy of ear and eye, For the heart and mind's de-light, For the mystic har-mo-ny Linking sense to sound and sight; Joy-ful-ly to life we raise This our song of grate-ful praise. For the wonder of each hour Of the day and of the night, Hill and vale and tree and flow'r, Sun and moon and stars of light; Joy-ful-ly to life we raise This our song of grate-ful praise. Reader: Our modern reading is from Herbert Spencer's Data of Ethics. Bounding out of bed after an unbroken sleep, singing or whistling as he dresses, coming down with beaming face ready to laugh on the smallest provocation, the healthy man of high powers, conscious of past successes and, by his energy, quickness, resource, made confident of the future, enters on the day's business not with repugnance but with gladness; and from hour to hour experiencing satisfactions from work effectually done, comes home with an abundant surplus of energy remaining for hours of relaxation. Far otherwise is it with one who is enfeebled by great neglect of self. Already deficient, his energies are made more deficient by constant endeavours to execute tasks that prove beyond his strength, and by the resulting discouragement. In brief, life becomes a burden. He who carries self-regard far enough to keep himself in good health and high spirits, in the first place thereby becomes an immediate source of happiness to those around, and in the second place maintains the ability to increase their happiness by altruistic actions. But one whose bodily vigour and mental health are undernmined by self-sacrifice carried too far, in the first place becomes to those around a cause of depression, and in the second place renders himself incapable, or less capable, of actively furthering their welfare. Congregation sings: Die Gedanken sind fri (German: "These thoughts are free") Die Gedanken sind frei My thoughts freely flower Die Gedanken sind frei My thoughts give me power, No scholar can map them No hunter can trap them No one can deny-- Die Gedanken sind frei No one can deny-- Die Gedanken sind fri I think as I please, And this gives me pleasure My conscience decrees, This right I must treasure; My thoughts will not cater To duke or dictator, No one can deny-- Die Gedanken sind frei No one can deny-- Die Gedanken sind frei And should tyrants take me And throw me in prison, My thoughts will burst free, Like blossoms in season. Foundations will crumble, And structures will tumble, And freely I'll cry Die Gedanken sind frei And freely I'll cry Die Gedanken sind frei Minister: [Introduction of speaker] Discourse by speaker: Organ or piano: Greensleeves [Collection is taken] Minister: [Announcements] Congregation sings: If I Had a Hammer (sing 3 verses) Minister: Our final reading is from Matthew Arnold. While the locks are yet brown on thy head, While the Soul still looks through thine eyes, While the heart still pours The mantling blood to thy cheek, Sink, O youth, in thy soul! Yearn to the greatness of Nature; Rally the good in the depths of thyself! Organ or piano: Bach, Sheep May Safely Graze

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