Faith poems
/ page 225 of 262 /Lyric of Action
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
'Tis the part of a coward to brood
O'er the past that is withered and dead:
The Tryst Of The Sachems Daughter
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
In the far green depths of the forest glade,
Where the hunters footsteps but rarely strayed,
Was a darksome dell, possessed, twas said,
By an evil spirit, dark and dread,
Whose weird voice spoke in the whisperings low
Of that haunted wood, and the torrents flow.
Content
© Madison Julius Cawein
When I behold how some pursue
Fame, that is care's embodiment,
Or fortune, whose false face looks true,--
A humble home with sweet content
Is all I ask for me and you.
Skizonoid
© Sukasah Syahdan
as old zagreb lies there
on the wait for a young friend driving,
i question myself, "Do you love nausea?";
seeing can't be this punishing
Longings
© Sukasah Syahdan
I have longed to hit the quill
and hear the faithful tick-tock
of a perishing machine
A Parable From Liebig
© Charles Kingsley
The church bells were ringing, the devil sat singing
On the stump of a rotting old tree;
'Oh faith it grows cold, and the creeds they grow old,
And the world is nigh ready for me.'
From: An Evening Revery
© William Cullen Bryant
FROM AN UNFINISHED POEM
The summer day is closed--the sun is set:
Grandmothers Teaching
© Alfred Austin
``Grandmother dear, you do not know; you have lived the old-world life,
Under the twittering eaves of home, sheltered from storm and strife;
Rocking cradles, and covering jams, knitting socks for baby feet,
Or piecing together lavender bags for keeping the linen sweet:
Daughter, wife, and mother in turn, and each with a blameless breast,
Then saying your prayers when the nightfall came, and quietly dropping to rest.
O Lord, Our Father
© Mark Twain
O Lord, our father,
Our young patriots, idols of our hearts,
Go forth to battle - be Thou near them!
With them, in spirit, we also go forth
From the sweet peace of our beloved firesides To smite the foe.
A Une Madone (To A Madonna)
© Charles Baudelaire
Ex-voto dans le goût espagnol
Je veux bâtir pour toi, Madone, ma maîtresse,
Un autel souterrain au fond de ma détresse,
Et creuser dans le coin le plus noir de mon coeur,
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 1. The Musician's Tale; The Saga of King Olaf XVII. -- King Svend Of T
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Loudly the sailors cheered
Svend of the Forked Beard,
Our Privilege
© Francis Bret Harte
Not ours, where battle smoke upcurls,
And battle dews lie wet,
To meet the charge that treason hurls
By sword and bayonet.
To-- : From The French
© George Gordon Byron
Must thou go, my glorious Chief,
Sever'd from thy faithful few?
Why England Is Conservative
© Alfred Austin
Because of our dear Mother, the fair Past,
On whom twin Hope and Memory safely lean,
I Mark Your Courage
© Ivan Donn Carswell
I had no profound feelings of shock or surprise
to those matter-of-fact revelations
which spelled the end of this chapter of your life.
It was, as you put it, too late for recriminations,
and the horrendous realities could be no worse
for having faced them.
The Nativity
© William Cowper
Upon my meanness, poverty, and guilt,
The trophy of thy glory shall be built;
My selfdisdain shall be the unshaken base,
And my deformity its fairest grace;
For destitute of good, and rich in ill,
Must be my state and my description still.