God poems
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South Carolina To The States Of The North
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I LIFT these hands with iron fetters banded:
Beneath the scornful sunlight and cold stars
I rear my once imperial forehead branded
By alien shame's immedicable scars;
254. Caledonia: A Ballad
© Robert Burns
THERE was once a day, but old Time wasythen young,
That brave Caledonia, the chief of her line,
From some of your northern deities sprung,
(Who knows not that brave Caledonias divine?)
The Ballad of the White Horse
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Of great limbs gone to chaos,
A great face turned to night-
Why bend above a shapeless shroud
Seeking in such archaic cloud
Sight of strong lords and light?
135. Epigram on Rough Roads
© Robert Burns
IM now arrivedthanks to the gods!
Thro pathways rough and muddy,
A certain sign that makin roads
Is no this peoples study:
A Mother In Egypt
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
"About midnight will I go out into the midst of Egypt: and all the firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh that sitteth upon the throne, even unto the firstborn of the maid-servant that is behind the mill."
281. Sonnet to R. Graham, Esq., on Receiving a Favour
© Robert Burns
I CALL no Goddess to inspire my strains,
A fabled Muse may suit a bard that feigns:
Friend of my life! my ardent spirit burns,
And all the tribute of my heart returns,
41. Epistle to John Rankine
© Robert Burns
It pits me aye as mads a hare;
So I can rhyme nor write nae mair;
But pennyworths again is fair,
When times expedient:
Meanwhile I am, respected Sir,
Your most obedient.
The Battle Of Salamis
© Aeschylus
The night was passing, and the Grecian host
By no means sought to issue forth unseen.
"Choose You This Day Whom Ye Will Serve"
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
YES, tyrants, you hate us, and fear while you hate
The self-ruling, chain-breaking, throne-shaking State!
The night-birds dread morning,--your instinct is true,--
The day-star of Freedom brings midnight for you!
224. Epistle to Hugh Parker
© Robert Burns
IN this strange land, this uncouth clime,
A land unknown to prose or rhyme;
Where words neer crosst the Muses heckles,
Nor limpit in poetic shackles:
The Splendid Shilling
© John Arthur Phillips
- - Sing, Heavenly Muse,
Things unattempted yet in Prose or Rhime,
A Shilling, Breeches, and Chimera's Dire.
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
The Age Of The Antonines
© Herman Melville
While faith forecasts millennial years
Spite Europe's embattled lines,
Blood Road
© Katharine Lee Bates
The Old Year groaned as he trudged away,
His guilty shadow black on the snow,
And the heart of the glad New Year turned grey
At the road Time bade him go.
It was you, Atthis, who said
© Sappho
It was you, Atthis, who said
"Sappho, if you will not get
up and let us look at you
I shall never love you again!
Finality
© Charles Harpur
A HEAVY and desolate sense of life
Is all the Past makes mineand still
A cold contempt of Fortunes strife,
Despite the dread
Of want of bread,
Numbs, clogs like ice, my weary will.
293. The Whistle: A Ballad
© Robert Burns
I SING of a Whistle, a Whistle of worth,
I sing of a Whistle, the pride of the North.
Was brought to the court of our good Scottish King,
And long with this Whistle all Scotland shall ring.
