Faith poems

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Down, indignation! hence, ideas foul!
Away the shocking image from my soul!
Let kindlier visitants attend my way,
Beneath approaching _Summer's_ fervid ray;
Nor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy,
Whilst the sweet theme is _universal joy_.

Ultima Thule: Old St. David's At Radnor

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

What an image of peace and rest
Is this little church among its graves!
All is so quiet; the troubled breast,
The wounded spirit, the heart oppressed,
Here may find the repose it craves.

The Chief

© William Ernest Henley

His brow spreads large and placid, and his eye

Is deep and bright, with steady looks that still.

St. Thomas' Day

© John Keble

We were not by when Jesus came,

But round us, far and near,

Weighing The Baby

© Ethel Lynn Eliot Beers

"How many pounds does the baby weigh -
Baby who came but a month ago?
How many pounds from the crowning curl
To the rosy point of the restless toe?"

The Tent On The Beach

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I would not sin, in this half-playful strain,--

Too light perhaps for serious years, though born

"Six years, six cycles of dead hours"

© Richard Monckton Milnes

Six years, six cycles of dead hours,
Six falls of leaves, six births of flowers!
It is not that, you know full well,
That makes my labouring bosom swell,

The Pleasures of Imagination: Book The First

© Mark Akenside

With what attractive charms this goodly frame

Of nature touches the consenting hearts

Ode

© James Russell Lowell

I

In the old days of awe and keen-eyed wonder,

Until She Died

© Edgar Albert Guest

Until she died we never knew

The beauty of our faith in God.

Sonnet XLVIII. To Mrs. ****

© Charlotte Turner Smith

NO more my wearied soul attempts to stray
From sad reality and vain regret,
Nor courts enchanting fiction to allay
Sorrows that sense refuses to forget:

Pierrot

© Langston Hughes

I work all day,

Said Simple John,

The Incomprehensible

© Isaac Watts

FAR in the Heavens my God retires:
My God, the mark of my desires,
And hides his lovely face;
When he descends within my view,
He charms my reason to pursue,
But leaves it tird and fainting in th unequal chase.

The Judgement of Hercules

Wrapp'd in a pleased suspense, the youth survey'd
The various charms of each attractive maid:
Alternate each he view'd, and each admired,
And found, alternate, varying flames inspired:
Quick o'er their forms his eyes with pleasure ran,
When she, who first approach'd him, first began:-

Leaves

One by one, like leaves from a tree

All my faiths have forsaken me;

The False Fair Days

The false fair days have flamed the livelong day,
And still they flicker in the brazen West.
Cast down thine eyes, poor soul, shut out the unblest:
A deadliest temptation. Come away.

The Bread Of Angels

At last, upon my wonder drawn, I followed
The secret wanderers till I saw them pause
Before the dying glare of those tall panes
Where greed and surfeit nodded face to face
O'er the picked bones of pleasure . . .
And the door opened and the nuns went in.