Faith poems
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Written In A Seat At Stoke Park, Near The Vicararage-House, Then Inhabited By The Author, And Comman
© Henry James Pye
Not with more joy from the loud tempest's roar,
The dangerous billow, and more dangerous shore,
At Long Bay
© Henry Kendall
FIVE years ago! you cannot choose
But know the face of change,
Though July sleeps and Spring renews
The gloss in gorge and range.
The Old Violon
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
"Going, going!" the voice was loud,
And, rising, silenced the chattering crowd.
Australasia
© William Charles Wentworth
Hadst thou, old Cynic, seen this unclad crew
Stretch their bare bodies in the nightly dew,
Like hairy Satyrs, midst their Sylvan seats,
Endure both winter's frosts, and summer's heats;
Thy cloak and tub away thou wouldst have cast,
And tried, like them, to brave the piercing blast.
Farewell, My Loved One!
© Henry Clay Work
Farewell, my loved one!
Yet once more
Let me press you to my heart;
Once, our Fate, with cruel fingers,
Tears our souls apart.
This Tattered Catechism
© Katharine Lee Bates
THIS tattered catechism weaves a spell,
Invoking from the Long Ago a child
Paracelsus: Part IV: Paracelsus Aspires
© Robert Browning
Festus.
So strange
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
Alsace-Lorraine
© George Meredith
Yet the like aerial growths may chance be the delicate sprays,
Infant of Earth's most urgent in sap, her fierier zeal
For entry on Life's upper fields: and soul thus flourishing pays
The martyr's penance, mark for brutish in man to heel.
The School-Mistress
© William Shenstone
Auditae voces, vagitus et ingens,
Infantunque animae flentes in limine primo. ~ Virg.
Alexander And Phillip
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
The cypress spread their gloom
Like a cloak from the noontide beam,
He flung back his dusty plume,
And plunged in the silver stream;
He plunged like the young steed, fierce and wild,
He was borne away like the feeble child.
Never To See Or Hear Her
© Rene Francois Armand Prudhomme
Never to see or hear her,
never to name her aloud,
but faithfully always to wait for her
and love her.
The Wind And The Whirlwind
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I have a thing to say. But how to say it?
I have a cause to plead. But to what ears?
How shall I move a world by lamentation,
A world which heeded not a Nation's tears?
The Legend Glorified
© James Whitcomb Riley
"I deem that God is not disquieted"--
This in a mighty poet's rhymes I read;
And blazoned so forever doth abide
Within my soul the legend glorified.
Above The Storm
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE winds of the winter have breathed their dirges
Far over the wood and the leaf-strown plain;
They have passed, forlorn, by the mountain verges
Down to the shores of the moaning main;
