Faith poems

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To The Men At Home

© Edgar Albert Guest

No war is won by cannon fire alone;

  The soldier bears the grim and dreary role;

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"This dainty instrument, this table—toy"

© Richard Monckton Milnes

This dainty instrument, this table--toy,
Might seem best fitted for the use and joy
Of some high Ladie in old gallant times,
Or gay--learned weaver of Provencal rhymes:

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On Mrs. Blandford

© Hannah More

Meek shade, farewell! go seek that quiet shore

Where sin shall vex, and sorrow wound no more;

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A Seer

© Padraic Colum

"BELOW there are white-faced throngs,

Their march is a tide coming Higher;

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God Rules Alway

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

Into the world's most high and holy places

Men carry selfishness, and graft and greed.

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Don Pedrillo

© Emma Lazarus

Not a lad in Saragossa
Nobler-featured, haughtier-tempered,
Than the Alcalde's youthful grandson,
Donna Clara's boy Pedrillo.

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The Enchanted Lake

© Dora Sigerson Shorter

I found a dark enchanted lake,

That lay within a lonely glade;

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The Muses Threnodie: Second Muse

© Henry Adamson

Then thus, quod I, good Gall, I pray thee show,
For cleerly all antiquities yee know:
What mean these skonses, and these hollow trenches,
Throughout these fallow fields and yonder inches?
And these great heaps of stones like piramids,
Doubtless all these ye knew, that so much reads;

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Miriam

© John Greenleaf Whittier

But over Akbar's brows the frown hung black,
And, turning to the eunuch at his back,
"Take them," he said, "and let the Jumna's waves
Hide both my shame and these accursed slaves!"
His loathly length the unsexed bondman bowed
"On my head be it!"

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Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XII - Aswa-Medha - (Sacrifice Of The Horse)

© Romesh Chunder Dutt

The real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased

warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is

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Vesalius In Zante

© Edith Wharton

Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.
I loved light ever, light in eye and brain—
No tapers mirrored in long palace floors,
Nor dedicated depths of silent aisles,
But just the common dusty wind-blown day
That roofs earth’s millions.

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It Is You

© Paul Verlaine

It is you, it is you, poor better thoughts!

The needful hope, shame for the ancient blots,

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A Portrait

© Alfred Austin

When friends grown faithless, or the fickle throng,

Withdrawing from my life the love they lent,

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A Legend Of Brittany - Part Second

© James Russell Lowell

I

As one who, from the sunshine and the green,

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The Inevitable

© Sarah Knowles Bolton

I LIKE the man who faces what he must

With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;

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Mother and Daughter- Sonnet Sequence

© Augusta Davies Webster

  Oh goddess head! Oh innocent brave eyes!
Oh curved and parted lips where smiles are rare
And sweetness ever! Oh smooth shadowy hair
Gathered around the silence of her brow!
  Child, I'd needs love thy beauty stranger-wise:
And oh the beauty of it, being thou!

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Rural Elegance, An Ode to the Late Duchess of Somerset

© William Shenstone

While orient skies restore the day,
And dew-drops catch the lucid ray;
Amid the sprightly scenes of morn
Will aught the Muse inspire?
Oh! peace to yonder clamorous horn
That drowns the sacred lyre!

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The Two Dreams

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

I WILL that if I say a heavy thing

Your tongues forgive me; seeing ye know that spring

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The Glen of Arrawatta

© Henry Kendall

A tale of Love and Death. And shall I say
A tale of love in death—for all the patient eyes
That gathered darkness, watching for a son
And brother, never dreaming of the fate—
The fearful fate he met alone, unknown,
Within the ruthless Australasian wastes?

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Fountain of Never-Ceasing Grace

© Augustus Montague Toplady

Fountain of never ceasing grace,

Thy saints’ exhaustless theme,