God poems
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The Hesitating Veteran
© Ambrose Bierce
When I was young and full of faith
And other fads that youngsters cherish
Beauty and Hate
© John Le Gay Brereton
I have sought and followed you, drunk with your sacred wine;
Led out by a laughing wind on a tumbling sea,
The Higher Kinship
© William Wilfred Campbell
Life is too grim with anxious, eating care
To cherish what is best. Our souls are scarred
Holy Willie's Prayer
© Robert Burns
O Thou, that in the heavens does dwell,
Wha, as it pleases best Thysel',
Sends ane to heaven an' ten to hell,
A' for Thy glory,
And no for onie guid or ill
They've done afore Thee!
A Poets Eightieth Birthday
© Alfred Austin
``He dieth young whom the Gods love,'' was said
By Greek Menander; nor alone by One
Don Juan: Canto The Eleventh
© George Gordon Byron
When Bishop Berkeley said 'there was no matter,'
And proved it--'twas no matter what he said:
Georgic 1
© Publius Vergilius Maro
What makes the cornfield smile; beneath what star
Maecenas, it is meet to turn the sod
On The Evening And Morning
© George Moses Horton
When Evening bids the Sun to rest retire,
Unwearied Ether sets her lamps on fire;
Lit by one torch, each is supplied in turn,
Till all the candles in the concave burn.
Song, by a Person of Quality
© Alexander Pope
I.
Flutt'ring spread thy purple Pinions,
Gentle Cupid, o'er my Heart;
I a Slave in thy Dominions;
Nature must give Way to Art.
Lorelei
© Sylvia Plath
It is no night to drown in:
A full moon, river lapsing
Black beneath bland mirror-sheen,
The New Proserpine
© Mathilde Blind
WHERE, countless as the stars of night,
The daisies made a milky way
Across fresh lawns, and flecked with light,
Old Ilex groves walled round with bay,--
Before
© William Ernest Henley
Behold me waiting-waiting for the knife.
A little while, and at a leap I storm
Morton
© James Whitcomb Riley
The warm pulse of the nation has grown chill;
The muffled heart of Freedom, like a knell,
Throbs solemnly for one whose earthly will
Wrought every mission well.
Shooter's Hill
© Robert Bloomfield
Health! I seek thee;-dost thou love
The mountain top or quiet vale,
Herba Santa
© Herman Melville
III
To scythe, to sceptre, pen and hod--
Yea, sodden laborers dumb;
To brains overplied, to feet that plod,
In solace of the _Truce of God_
The Calumet has come!
A Ballad Of Fair Ladies In Revolt
© George Meredith
See the sweet women, friend, that lean beneath
The ever-falling fountain of green leaves
Round the white bending stem, and like a wreath
Of our most blushful flower shine trembling through,
To teach philosophers the thirst of thieves:
Is one for me? is one for you?
The Winged Mariners
© Ada Cambridge
Through the wild night, the silence and the dark,
Through league on league of the uncharted sky,
Lonelier than dove of fable from its ark,
The fieldfares fly.
After A Lecture On Keats
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"Purpureos spargam flores."
THE wreath that star-crowned Shelley gave
Of Heaven
© John Bunyan
Heaven is a place, also a state,
It doth all things excel,
No man can fully it relate,
Nor of its glory tell.
Metamorphoses: Book The Seventh
© Ovid
The End of the Seventh Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
