God poems
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Abraham Davenport
© John Greenleaf Whittier
'T was on a May-day of the far old year
Seventeen hundred eighty, that there fell
Over the bloom and sweet life of the Spring,
Over the fresh earth and the heaven of noon,
A horror of great darkness, like the night
In day of which the Norland sagas tell,--
Ode To The Poppy
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Written by a deceased friend.
NOT for the promise of the labour'd field,
Hesperus The Bringer
© Sappho
O Hesperus, thou bringest all good things--
Home to the weary, to the hungry cheer,
To The Right Hon. The Earl of Orrery, On His Promise To Sup With The Author.
© Mary Barber
Tho' the Muse had deny'd me so often before,
I ventur'd this Day to invoke her once more.
She ask'd what I wanted; I said, with Delight,
Your Lordship had promis'd to sup here To--night;
That on an Occasion so much to my Honour,
I hop'd she'd excuse me for calling upon her.
A Roman Winter-Piece
© Eugene Field
See, Thaliarch mine, how, white with snow,
Soracte mocks the sullen sky;
How, groaning loud, the woods are bowed,
And chained with frost the rivers lie.
Echo.
© Robert Crawford
Here, Echo, was thy reign of old,
Among these hills, a mystic crowd
Whose thunder rolled
When they speak loud
Love Sonnet XXVIII
© Zora Bernice May Cross
My Poet, let the tempest rise once more,
Until from spirit out of spirit, wise
And free, we draw our own youth back again
My dimpled chin, your eyes; and learn the lore
Of everlasting life and all emprise
From the sweet child that comes to us through pain.
The Death Of Adam
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Cedars, that high upon the untrodden slopes
Of Lebanon stretch out their stubborn arms,
Through all the tempests of seven hundred years
Fast in their ancient place, where they look down
Hero And Leander. The Fourth Sestiad
© George Chapman
Now from Leander's place she rose, and found
Her hair and rent robe scatter'd on the ground;
The Golden Legend: III. A Street In Strasburg
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
_Crier of the dead (ringing a bell)._ Wake! wake!
All ye that sleep!
Pray for the Dead!
Pray for the Dead!
Achievement.
© Robert Crawford
In life's exigencies men have been known
To pass themselves, and to attain to more
Than hope; as if in combat with the gods
The god in them secured supremacy.
The Vision Of Echard
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Benedictine Echard
Sat by the wayside well,
Where Marsberg sees the bridal
Of the Sarre and the Moselle.
A Book of Dreams: Part II
© George MacDonald
A great church in an empty square,
A place of echoing tones;
Feet pass not oft enough to wear
The grass between the stones.
A Postscript unto the Reader
© Michael Wigglesworth
And now good Reader, I return again
To talk with thee, who hast been at the pain
A Statue In The Garden
© Eleanor Agnes Lee
I was a goddess ere the marble found me.
Wind, wind, delay not!
Waft my spirit where the laurel crowned me!
Will the wind stay not?
An Hymne In Honour Of Beautie
© Edmund Spenser
Ah! whither, Love! wilt thou now carry mee?
What wontlesse fury dost thou now inspire
Into my feeble breast, too full of thee?
Whylest seeking to aslake thy raging fyre,
On The Death Of Smet-Smet, The Hippopotamus- Goddess
© Rupert Brooke
(The Priests within the Temple)
She was wrinkled and huge and hideous? She was our Mother.
She was lustful and lewd? - but a God; we had none other.
In the day She was hidden and dumb, but at nightfall moaned in the shade;
We shuddered and gave Her Her will in the darkness; we were afraid.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 06 - part 08
© Torquato Tasso
XCIX
"Thou must," quoth she, "be mine ambassador,
Odysseus: In Memory Of Arthur Griffith
© Padraic Colum
And sorrow comes as on that August day,
With our ship cleaving through the seas for home,
And that news coming sparkling through the air,
That you were dead, and that we'd never see you
Looking upon the state that you had builded.
