Faith poems
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When I Peruse The Conquer'd Fame
© Walt Whitman
WHEN I peruse the conquer'd fame of heroes, and the victories of
mighty generals, I do not envy the generals,
Prometheus Unbound
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
First Voice.
But never bowed our snowy crest
As at the voice of thine unrest.
One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue Part IV
© Madison Julius Cawein
_They who die young are blest.--
Should we not envy such?
They are Earth's happiest,
God-loved and favored much!--
They who die young are blest._
Ode to Cynthia, on the Approach of Spring
© William Shenstone
Now in the cowslip's dewy cell
The fairies make their bed,
They hover round the crystal well,
The turf in circles tread.
The Reunion
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The gulf of seven and fifty years
We stretch our welcoming hands across;
The distance but a pebble's toss
Between us and our youth appears.
The Hearth Eternal
© Vachel Lindsay
There dwelt a widow learned and devout,
Behind our hamlet on the eastern hill.
Three sons she had, who went to find the world.
They promised to return, but wandered still.
On the Building of Springfield
© Vachel Lindsay
Let not our town be large, remembering
That little Athens was the Muses' home,
That Oxford rules the heart of London still,
That Florence gave the Renaissance to Rome.
Don Juan: Canto The Fifteenth
© George Gordon Byron
Ah!--What should follow slips from my reflection;
Whatever follows ne'ertheless may be
Not Dead
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
To J.A.D.
HERE, at the sweetest hour of this sweet day,
Here in the calmest woodland haunt I know,
Benignant thoughts around my memory play,
Look You, I'll Go Pray
© Vachel Lindsay
Look you, I'll go pray,
My shame is crying,
My soul is gray and faint,
My faith is dying.
The Death Of Stephen
© John Newton
As some tall rock amidst the waves,
The fury of the tempest braves;
While the fierce billows toiling high,
Break at its foot and murm'ring die:
Upon Returning to the Country Road
© Vachel Lindsay
Even the shrewd and bitter,
Gnarled by the old world's greed,
Cherished the stranger softly
Seeing his utter need.
The Tree of Laughing Bells
© Vachel Lindsay
Like a diver after pearls
I plunged to that stifling floor.
It was wide as a giant's wheat-field
An icy, wind-washed shore.
O laughing, proud, but trembling star!
O wind that wounded sore!
Milton--December 9, 1608: December 9, 1908
© George Meredith
Homage to him
His debtor band, innumerable as waves
Running all golden from an eastern sun,
Joyfully render, in deep reverence
Subscribe, and as they speak their Milton's name,
Rays of his glory on their foreheads bear.
Foreign Missions in Battle Array
© Vachel Lindsay
An endless line of splendor,
These troops with heaven for home,
With creeds they go from Scotland,
With incense go from Rome.
In MemoriamRev. J. J. Lyons
© Emma Lazarus
ROSH-HASHANAH, 5638.
The golden harvest-tide is here, the corn
The Sun Says His Prayers
© Vachel Lindsay
"The sun says his prayers," said the fairy,
Or else he would wither and die.
"The sun says his prayers," said the fairy,
"For strength to climb up through the sky.
A Net to Snare the Moonlight
© Vachel Lindsay
The dew, the rain and moonlight
All prove our Father's mind.
The dew, the rain and moonlight
Descend to bless mankind.
The Tale of the Tiger-Tree
© Vachel Lindsay
Peace-of-the-Heart, my own for long,
Whose shining hair the May-winds fan,
Making it tangled as they can,
A mystery still, star-shining yet,
Through ancient ages known to me
And now once more reborn with me:
