Faith poems
/ page 154 of 262 /Idylls of the King: The Last Tournament
© Alfred Tennyson
To whom the King, "Peace to thine eagle-borne
Dead nestling, and this honour after death,
Following thy will! but, O my Queen, I muse
Why ye not wear on arm, or neck, or zone
Those diamonds that I rescued from the tarn,
And Lancelot won, methought, for thee to wear."
Memories
© Rudyard Kipling
"The eradication of memories of the Great War. -SOCIALIST GOVERNMENT ORGAN
The Socialist Government speaks:
THOUGH all the Dead were all forgot
And razed were every tomb,
An English Peasant
© George Crabbe
To pomp and pageantry in nought allied,
A noble peasant, Isaac Ashford, died.
Pierrots
© Ezra Pound
(Scene courte mais typique)
Your eyes! Since I lost their incandescence
Flat calm engulphs my jibs,
The shudder of Vae soli gurgles beneath my ribs.
Song of Social Despair
© Marvin Bell
Ethics without faith, excuse me,
is the butter and not the bread.
You can’t nourish them all, the dead
pile up at the hospital doors.
And even they are not so numerous
as the mothers come in maternity.
Ode Read At The One Hundreth Anniversary Of The Fight At Concord Bridge
© James Russell Lowell
I
Who cometh over the hills,
They are hostile nations
© Margaret Atwood
In view of the fading animals
the proliferation of sewers and fears
the sea clogging, the air
nearing extinction
from The Vanity of Human Wishes
© Henry James Pye
Yet still one genral cry the skies assails,
And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
Few know the toiling statesmans fear or care,
Th insidious rival and the gaping heir.
The Bounty
© Derek Walcott
Between the vision of the Tourist Board and the true
Paradise lies the desert where Isaiah’s elations
force a rose from the sand. The thirty-third canto
The Letter
© Dana Gioia
And in the end, all that is really left
Is a feeling—strong and unavoidable—
A Sentiment Offered At The Dinner To H. I. H. The Prince Napoleon
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
AT THE REVERE HOUSE,
SEPTEMBER 25,1861
Prince Athanase
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
There was a youth, who, as with toil and travel,
Had grown quite weak and gray before his time;
Nor any could the restless griefs unravel
An Incident Of The Fire At Hamburg
© James Russell Lowell
The tower of old Saint Nicholas soared upward to the skies,
Like some huge piece of Nature's make, the growth of centuries;
You could not deem its crowding spires a work of human art,
They seemed to struggle lightward from a sturdy living heart.
The Wound-Dresser
© Walt Whitman
But in silence, in dreams’ projections,
While the world of gain and appearance and mirth goes on,
So soon what is over forgotten, and waves wash the imprints off the sand,
With hinged knees returning I enter the doors, (while for you up there,
Whoever you are, follow without noise and be of strong heart.)
Dean Stanley
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
DEAD! dead! in sooth his marbled brow is cold,
And prostrate lies that brave, majestic head;
True! his stilled features own death's arctic mould,
Yet, by Christ's blood, I know he is not dead!
To the Lord General Cromwell
© Patrick Kavanagh
Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud,
Not of war only, but detractions rude,