God poems

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Of Judgement

© John Bunyan

As 'tis appointed men should die,
So judgment is the next
That meets them most assuredly;
For so saith holy text.

The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11

© Publius Vergilius Maro

SCARCE had the rosy Morning raisd her head

Above the waves, and left her watry bed;

Rococo

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

TAKE HANDS and part with laughter;

Touch lips and part with tears;

The Reconciliation

© Eugene Field

When you were mine, in auld lang syne,
And when none else your charms might ogle,
I'll not deny, fair nymph, that I
Was happier than a heathen mogul.

"My parch'd lips strove for utterance--but no,
I could but listen still, with speechless woe:
I stretch'd my quivering arms--'Away! away!'
She cried, 'and let me humbly kneel, and pray
For pardon; if, indeed, such pardon be
For having dared to love--a thing like thee!'

Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Sextus

© John Gower

Incipit Liber Septimus.

An Hymne Of Heavenly Beautie

© Edmund Spenser

Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
And glorious images in heaven wrought,
Whose wondrous beauty, breathing sweet delights

Ballad Of Jesus Of Nazareth

© Edgar Lee Masters

It matters not what place he drew
At first life's mortal breath,
Some say it was in Bethlehem,
And some in Nazareth.
But shame and sorrow were his lot
And shameful was his death.

Song: To Cynthia

© Benjamin Jonson

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
Now the sun is laid to sleep,
Seated in thy silver chair,
State in wonted manner keep:
Hesperus entreats thy light,
Goddess excellently bright.

Admetus: To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson

© Emma Lazarus

He who could beard the lion in his lair,

To bind him for a girl, and tame the boar,

Poem 9

© Kabir

WHERE Spring, the lord of the seasons, reigneth, there the Unstruck Music sounds of itself,

There the streams of light flow in all directions;

Classic Dancing in Cactus Center

© Arthur Chapman

Down here in Cactus Center we have lived a life apart;

We've been far, we're frank in sayin', from the headquarters of art...

An Essay on Man: Epistle 1

© Alexander Pope

To Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke

Awake, my St. John! leave all meaner things

Sable Island

© Joseph Howe

Dark Isle of Mourning-aptly art thou named,

For thou hast been the cause of many a tear;

Gravikty

© Harold Monro

I
Fit for perpetual worship is the power
That holds our bodies safely to the earth.

Loraine

In her dark-ringed eyes shone the sad unrest
That spoke in the heave of her troubled breast,
And her face was white as the chiselled stone,
And her lips pressed madly against my own,
And her heart beat wildly against my heart,
And we strove to go, but we could not part.