Faith poems
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Musette
© Henri Murger
Yesterday, watching the swallows' flight
That bring the spring and the season fair,
Earth And Man
© George Meredith
On her great venture, Man,
Earth gazes while her fingers dint the breast
Which is his well of strength, his home of rest,
And fair to scan.
Don Juan: Canto The Ninth
© George Gordon Byron
Oh, Wellington! (or 'Villainton'--for Fame
Sounds the heroic syllables both ways;
The Sydney International Exhibition
© Henry Kendall
Now, while Orion, flaming south, doth set
A shining foot on hills of wind and wet
Griselda: A Society Novel In Verse - Chapter I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
And thus I first beheld her, standing calm
In the swayed crowd upon her husband's arm,
One opera night, the centre of all eyes,
So proud she seemed, so fair, so sweet, so wise.
Some one behind me whispered ``Lady L.!
His Lordship too! and thereby hangs a tale.''
Jeffries Wyman Died September 4, 1874.
© James Russell Lowell
The wisest man could ask no more of Fate
Than to be simple, modest, manly, true,
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 1
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ARMS, and the man I sing, who, forcd by fate,
And haughty Junos unrelenting hate,
Watching
© Henry Kendall
Like a beautiful face looking ever at me
A pure bright moon cometh over the sea;
America
© Edgar Lee Masters
Glorious daughter of time! Thou of the mild blue eye --
Thou of the virginal forehead --pallid, unfurrowed of tears--
Thou of the strong white hands with fingers dipped in the dye
Of the blood that quickened the fathers of thee, in the ancient years,
The Mourner
© George Crabbe
He had his wish, had more; I will not paint
The lovers' meeting: she beheld him faint, -
With tender fears, she took a nearer view,
Her terrors doubling as her hopes withdrew;
He tried to smile, and, half succeeding, said,
"Yes! I must die," and hope for ever fled.
The Heir Of Lynne
© Andrew Lang
Of all the lords in faire Scotland
A song I will begin:
Amongst them all dwelled a lord
Which was the unthrifty Lord of Lynne.
Inscriptions: VII: The Wood Nymph
© Mark Akenside
Approach in silence. 'tis no vulgar tale
Which I, the Dryad of this hoary oak,
The Mother's Funeral
© George Crabbe
The elder sister strove her pangs to hide,
And soothing words to younger minds applied:
"Be still, be patient;" oft she strove to say,
But fail'd as oft, and weeping turn'd away.
Faith
© Jones Very
There is no faith; the mountain stands within
Still unrebuked, its summit reaches heaven;
The Head Of Bran The Blest
© George Meredith
When the Head of Bran
Was firm on British shoulders,
God made a man!
Cried all beholders.
A Tale Of True Love
© Alfred Austin
Not in the mist of legendary ages,
Which in sad moments men call long ago,
And people with bards, heroes, saints, and sages,
And virtues vanished, since we do not know,
But here to-day wherein we all grow old,
But only we, this Tale of True Love will be told.
Sonnet 14: Alas, Have I Not
© Sir Philip Sidney
Alas, have I not pain enough, my friend,
Upon whose breast a fiercer gripe doth tire,
Than did on him who first stole down the fire,
While Love on me doth all his quiver spend,
