God poems
/ page 165 of 194 /The Poet VIII
© Khalil Gibran
He is a link between this and the coming world.
He is
A pure spring from which all thirsty souls may drink.
Yes, Atthis, you may be sure
© Sappho
of the life we shared here, when you seemed
the Goddess incarnate
to her and your singing pleased her best
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The Second =Fourth Dialogue=.
© Giordano Bruno
SEV. You will see the origin of the nine blind men, who state nine
reasons and special causes of their blindness, and yet they all agree in
one general reason and one common enthusiasm.
Letter In Prose And Verse To Mrs. Bunbury
© Oliver Goldsmith
I read your letter with all that allowance which critical candour could
require, but after all find so much to object to, and so much to raise
my indignation, that I cannot help giving it a serious answer.
Before the Throne of Beauty XXVI
© Khalil Gibran
One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley
A Poet's Death is His Life IV
© Khalil Gibran
The dark wings of night enfolded the city upon which Nature had spread a pure white garment of snow; and men deserted the streets for their houses in search of warmth, while the north wind probed in contemplation of laying waste the gardens
The Masque Of Pandora
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
THE VOICE.
Not finished till I breathe the breath of life
Into her nostrils, and she moves and speaks.
To James T. Fields
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Well thought! who would not rather hear
The songs to Love and Friendship sung
Than those which move the stranger's tongue,
And feed his unselected ear?
Endymion.
© Adelaide Crapsey
"Let me be young," the Latmian shepherd prayed,
"And let me have on night-time hills long sleep;"
To a Musquito
© William Cullen Bryant
Fair insect! that, with threadlike legs spread out,
And blood-extracting bill and filmy wing,
Does murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about,
In pitiless ears full many a plaintive thing,
And tell how little our large veins should bleed,
Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.
Songs Of The Imprisoned Naiad
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"WOE! woe is me! the centuries pass away,
The mortal seasons run their ceaseless rounds,
While here I wither for the sunbright day,
Its genial sights and sounds.
Woe! woe is me!
The Marriage Of Tirzah And Ahirad
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Round the dark curtains of the fiery throne
Pauses awhile the voice of sacred song:
From all the angelic ranks goes forth a groan,
'How long, O Lord, how long?'
The still small voice makes answer, 'Wait and see,
Oh sons of glory, what the end shall be.'
A Brief History of Gods
© Sukasah Syahdan
First, we worshipped the inanimate.
Next, we learned to worship the gods
Later, we discovered the Deity.
Then, dazzled by our own Reason
An Ode To The Hills
© Archibald Lampman
AEons ago ye were,
Before the struggling changeful race of man
You Gotta be Kidding
© Sukasah Syahdan
So you think God
soliloquizes to Himself
(or Herself, Itself, or Godself
for that matter)
in front of the Bathroom Mirror?
Heine's "Widow Or Daughter?"
© Eugene Field
Shall I woo the one or other?
Both attract me-more's the pity!
Pretty is the widowed mother,
And the daughter, too, is pretty.
The Man Bitten By Fleas
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
A Peevish Fellow laid his Head
On Pillows, stuff'd with Down;
But was no sooner warm in Bed,
With hopes to rest his Crown,