Faith poems
/ page 109 of 262 /
Upper Austria
© John Kenyon
And he had comment, full and clear,
The fruit of many a travelled year;
But more, by meditation brought
From inner depths of silent thought;
Or fresh from fountain, never dry,
Of undisturbed humanity.
The Preacher
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The impulse spread like the outward course
Of waters moved by a central force;
The tide of spiritual life rolled down
From inland mountains to seaboard town.
Verses On A Cat
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
A cat in distress,
Nothing more, nor less;
Good folks, I must faithfully tell ye,
The North Sea -- Second Cycle
© Heinrich Heine
The waves are murmuring, the sea-gulls crying,
Wafts of old memories over me steal,
Old dreams long forgotten, old visions long vanished,
Sweet and torturing, rise from the deep..
Sonnet XV. To The Lord General Fairfax
© John Milton
Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings,
And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise,
And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze.
And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings,
America: From the National Ode, July 4, 1876
© James Bayard Taylor
FORESEEN in the vision of sages,
Foretold when martyrs bled,
To Giovanni Battista Manso, Marquis of Villa. (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
These verses also to thy praise the Nine
Oh Manso! happy in that theme design,
A Morning Exercise
© William Wordsworth
Through border wilds where naked Indians stray,
Myriads of notes attest her subtle skill;
A feathered task-master cries, "WORK AWAY!"
And, in thy iteration, "WHIP POOR WILL!"
Is heard the spirit of a toil-worn slave,
Lashed out of life, not quiet in the grave.
Sonnet
© Richard Lovelace
I.
When I by thy faire shape did sweare,
And mingled with each vowe a teare,
I lov'd, I lov'd thee best,
Three Memorial Poems
© James Russell Lowell
'Coscienza fusca
O della propria o dell' altrui vergogna
Pur sentira la tua parola brusca.'
The Dying Bondman
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
But our faithful martyr hero
Through a fiery pathway trod,
Till he laid his valiant spirit
On the bosom of his God.
Records of Romantic Passion
© Charles Harpur
THERES a rare Soul of Poesy which may be
But concentrated by the chastened dreams
Youth In Memory
© George Meredith
Days, when the ball of our vision
Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun;
All That Pass By, to Jesus Draw Near
© Charles Wesley
All that pass by, To Jesus draw near,
He utters a cry, Ye sinners, give ear!
From hell to retrieve you He spreads out his hands;
Now, now to receive you, He graciously stands.
Music
© Charles Harpur
Like sunrise when its conquering glow
Smites through the vapours cold,
Till all their ragged inlets flow
With floods of burning gold.
Sumner
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O Mother State! the winds of March
Blew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,
Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch
Of sky, thy mourning children trod.
Do not fret, do not cry, do not tax...
© Boris Pasternak
Do not fret, do not cry, do not tax
Your last strength, and your heart do not torture.
You're alive, you're inside me, intact,
As a buttress, a friend, an adventure.
Jolly Jack
© William Makepeace Thackeray
When fierce political debate
Throughout the isle was storming,
The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi
© Robert Browning
Again the morning found me. I will work,
Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
Around the noble name. Duty is still
Wisdom: I have been wise. So the day wore.
