Faith poems
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Pharsalia - Book VI: The Fight Near Dyrhachium. Scaeva's Exploits. The Witch Of Thessalia.
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Now that the chiefs with minds intent on fight
Had drawn their armies near upon the hills
A Birthday Tribute
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHO is the shepherd sent to lead,
Through pastures green, the Master's sheep?
What guileless "Israelite indeed"
The folded flock may watch and keep?
Love's Mourner
© Augusta Davies Webster
Love faints that looks on baseness face to face:
Love pardons all; but by the pardonings dies,
With a fresh wound of each pierced through the breast.
And there stand pityingly in Love's void place
Kindness of household wont familiar-wise,
And faith to Love-faith to our dead at rest.
Ode VII: To The Right Reverend Benjamin Lord Bishop Of Winchester
© Mark Akenside
I. 1.
For toils which patriots have endur'd,
Soneto a Cervantes (With English Translation)
© Rubén Dario
Horas de pesadumbre y de tristeza
paso en mi soledad. Pero Cervantes
es buen amigo. Endulza mis instantes
ásperos, y reposa mi cabeza.
The Cathedral tombs
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
THEY lie, with upraised hands, and feet
Stretched like dead feet that walk no more,
And stony masks oft human sweet,
As if the olden look each wore,
Familiar curves of lip and eye,
Were wrought by some fond memory.
Under The Willows
© James Russell Lowell
Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,
Gypsy, whose roof is every spreading tree,
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 03 - Atomic Forms And Their Combinations
© Lucretius
Now come, and next hereafter apprehend
What sorts, how vastly different in form,
The Temple
© Edgar Lee Masters
Beyond the gates of Hercules
The seven builders took the stone,
Spurned everywhere in days of ease,
Long lying loose and overthrown,
Now carried over bitter seas
Where crystally Arcturus shone!
Autumn Wealth
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
Of course, there is no lack of faithful Christians ,too.
Most of Lithuanians are men of good character;
They love their families, obey the will of God.
Each day live saintly lives, steer clear of all misdeeds,
And rule their modest homes with kind parental care.
In The White Giant's Thigh
© Dylan Thomas
Through throats where many rivers meet, the curlews cry,
Under the conceiving moon, on the high chalk hill,
And there this night I walk in the white giant's thigh
Where barren as boulders women lie longing still
Flora Macivor's Song
© Sir Walter Scott
There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale,
But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael.
A stranger commanded â- it sunk on the land,
It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every hand!
Swags Up!
© John Le Gay Brereton
Swags up! and yet I turn upon the way.
The yellow hill against a dapple sky,
A Catholic To His Ulster Brother
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Is there no bond of blood to you, my brother?
Who have called her ours, the ancient Mother,
By A Norfolk Broad
© Ada Cambridge
One hour ago the crimson sun, that seemed so long a-drowning, sank.
The summer day is all but done. Our boat is moored beneath the bank.
I bask in peace, content, replete-my faithful comrade at my feet.
The Indian Hunter
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
When the summer harvest was gathered in,
And the sheaf of the gleaner grew white and thin,
And the ploughshare was in its furrow left,
Where the stubble land had been lately cleft,
An Indian hunter, with unstrung bow,
Looked down where the valley lay stretched below.
After-Thought
© Alfred Tennyson
I thought of Thee, my partner and my guide,
As being past away. -Vain sympathies!
