Faith poems
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Beloved Name
© Victor Marie Hugo
The lily's perfume pure, fame's crown of light,
The latest murmur of departing day,
Fond friendship's plaint, that melts at piteous sight,
The mystic farewell of each hour at flight,
The kiss which beauty grants with coy delay,--
Ascension
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
I have been down in the darkest water-
Deep, deep down where no light could pierce;
Mr. Barney Maguire's Account Of The Coronation
© Richard Harris Barham
Och! the Coronation! what celebration
For emulation can with it compare?
Down by the Sydney Side
© Anonymous
Over near a chock-and-log hut,
Down by the river-side,
A bronzed young bushman sat,
Telling his blushing bride
The time had come when he must rove
Down by the Sydney side.
Foreshadowings
© Henry Kendall
FIFTEEN miles and then the harbour! Here we cannot choose but stand,
Faces thrust towards the day-break, listening for our native land!
King Arthur's Death
© Thomas Percy
On Trinitye Mondaye in the morne,
This sore battayle was doom'd to bee,
Where manye a knighte cry'd, Well-awaye!
Alacke, it was the more pittìe.
Nineteenth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
When Persecution's torrent blaze
Wraps the unshrinking Martyr's head;
When fade all earthly flowers and bays,
When summer friends are gone and fled,
Is he alone in that dark hour
Who owns the Lord of love and power?
A Paraphrase On The Latter Part Of The Sixth Chapter Of St Matthew
© James Thomson
When my breast labours with oppressive care,
And o'er my cheek descends the falling tear:
In Memory Of The Late G. C. Of Montreal
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
The earth was flooded in the amber haze
That renders so lovely our autumn days,
The dying leaves softly fluttered down,
Bright crimson and orange and golden brown,
And the hush of autumn, solemn and still,
Brooded oer valley, plain and hill.
Ibn Kolthum
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Ha! The bowl! Fill it high, a fair morning wine--cup!
Leave we naught of the lees of Andarína.
Rise, pour forth, be it mixed, let it foam like saffron!
tempered thus will we drink it, ay, free--handed.
First Sunday After Christmas
© John Keble
'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
His daily course refused to run,
The pale moon hurrying to the west
Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.
An Ode - Presented To The King, On His Majesty's Arrival In Holland, After The Queen's Death
© Matthew Prior
At Mary's tomb (sad sacred place!)
The Virtues shall their vigils keep,
And every Muse and every Grace
In solemn state shall ever weep.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - January
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
Il Cinque Maggio (English)
© Alessandro Manzoni
HE was -- As motionless as lay,
First mingled with the dead,
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
The Refuge, River, And Rock Of The Church
© John Newton
He who on earth as man was known,
And bore our sins and pains;
Now, seated on th' eternal throne,
The God of glory reigns.
England
© John Henry Newman
Type of the West, and glorying in the name
More than in Faith's pure fame!
Oh. trust not crafty fort nor rock renowned
Earned upon hostile ground;
Wielding Trade's master-keys, at thy proud will
To lock or loose its waters, England! trust not still.
Song of the Saints and Angels
© George MacDonald
Gordon, the self-refusing,
Gordon, the lover of God,
Gordon, the good part choosing,
Welcome along the road!
