God poems
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Mary
© George MacDonald
She sitteth at the Master's feet
In motionless employ;
Her ears, her heart, her soul complete
Drinks in the tide of joy.
Hermes Trismegistus
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Still through Egypt's desert places
Flows the lordly Nile,
The Pastime of Pleasure: Of dysposycyon the II. parte of rethoryke - (til line 3017)
© Stephen Hawes
How la bell pucell graunted Graunde Amoure loue / and of her dyspytous departyoge. Ca. xix.
2241 Your wo & payne / & all your languysshynge
2242 Contynually / ye shall not spende in vayne
2243 Sythen I am cause / of your grete mornynge
Sleep
© Abraham Cowley
In vain, thou drowsy God! I thee invoke;
For thou, who dost from fumes arise
Senlin: A Biography Pt. 01:His Dark Origins
© Conrad Aiken
He lights his pipe with a pointed flame.
'Yet, there were many autumns before I came,
And many springs. And more will come, long after
There is no horn for me, or song, or laughter.
The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
© Thomas Hood
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,and with a broader sphere
The Choice of Valentines
© Thomas Nashe
Pardon sweete flower of matchless Poetrie,
And fairest bud the red rose euer bare ;
Two Sonnets. To Haydon, With A Sonnet Written On Seeing The Elgin Marbles
© John Keats
I.
Haydon! forgive me that I cannot speak
Hyperion. Book II
© John Keats
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
Safi
© Henry Kendall
Was it light, was it shadow he followed,
That he swept through those desperate tracts,
With his hair beating back on his shoulders
Like the tops of the wind-hackled flax?
Praise The Generous Gods
© William Ernest Henley
Praise the generous gods for giving
In a world of wrath and strife,
With a little time for living,
Unto all the joy of life.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
God sends his angel to Tortosa down,
To Quilca, A Country-House in no very good Repair
© Jonathan Swift
Let me thy Properties explain,
A rotten Cabin, dropping Rain;
The Wanderers Return
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
An old heart's mourning is a hideous thing,
And weeds upon an aged weeper cling
Like night upon a grave. The city there,
Gaunt as a woman who has once been fair,
Enceladus. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Second)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Under Mount Etna he lies,
It is slumber, it is not death;
For he struggles at times to arise,
And above him the lurid skies
Are hot with his fiery breath.
