Faith poems

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262

Verses on Sir Joshua Reynold's Painted Window at New College, Oxford

Reynolds, 'tis thine, from the broad window's height,
To add new lustre to religious light:
Not of its pomp to strip this ancient shrine,
But bid that pomp with purer radiance shine:
With arts unknown before, to reconcile
The willing Graces to the Gothic pile.

The Emigrants: Book I

© Charlotte Turner Smith

Scene, on the Cliffs to the Eastward of the Town of

Brighthelmstone in Sussex. Time, a Morning in November, 1792.

To Virgil, Written at the Request of the Mantuans for the N

© Alfred Tennyson

Poet of the happy Tityrus
piping underneath his beechen bowers;
Poet of the poet-satyr
whom the laughing shepherd bound with flowers;

In Memoriam A. H. H.: The Prelude

© Alfred Tennyson

Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, thou.
Our wills are ours, we know not how,
Our wills are ours, to make them thine.

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 95. By night we linger'd on the lawn

© Alfred Tennyson

While now we sang old songs that peal'd
From knoll to knoll, where, couch'd at ease,
The white kine glimmer'd, and the trees
Laid their dark arms about the field.

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 82. I wage not any feud with death

© Alfred Tennyson

For this alone on Death I wreak
The wrath that garners in my heart;
He put our lives so far apart
We cannot hear each other speak.

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 55. The wish, that of the living whol

© Alfred Tennyson

I falter where I firmly trod,
And falling with my weight of cares
Upon the great world's altar-stairs
That slope thro' darkness up to God,

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131. O living will that shalt endure

© Alfred Tennyson

O true and tried, so well and long,
Demand not thou a marriage lay;
In that it is thy marriage day
Is music more than any song.

In Memoriam A. H. H.: 126. Love is and was my Lord and King

© Alfred Tennyson

Love is and was my Lord and King,

And in his presence I attend

A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty

© Edmund Spenser

Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,

Through contemplation of those goodly sights,

God's Judgment on a Wicked Bishop

© Robert Southey

The summer and autumn had been so wet,
That in winter the corn was growing yet,
'Twas a piteous sight to see all around
The grain lie rotting on the ground.

© Adrienne Rich

Far back when I went zig-zagging
through tamarack pastures
you were my genius, you
my cast-iron Viking, my helmed
lion-heart king in prison.
Years later now you're young