Religion poems
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The City of Golf
© Robert Fuller Murray
Would you like to see a city given over,
Soul and body, to a tyrannising game?
If you would, there's little need to be a rover,
For St. Andrews is the abject city's name.
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.
© Matthew Prior
Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto V
© Richard Savage
My hermit thus. She beckons us away:
Oh, let us swift the high behest obey!
Childe Harold's Pilgrimage: A Romaunt. Canto II.
© George Gordon Byron
1
Tambourgi! Tambourgi! thy 'larum afar
Gives hope to the valiant, and promise of war:
All the sons of the mountains arise at the note,
Chimariot, Illyrian, and dark Suliote!
The Task : Complete
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
The Higher Unity
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
It was Isaiah Bunter
Who sailed to the world's end,
And spread religion in a way
That he did not intend.
Confessio Amantis. Explicit Liber Septimus
© John Gower
Que favet ad vicium vetus hec modo regula confert,
Nec novus e contra qui docet ordo placet.
Cecus amor dudum nondum sua lumina cepit,
Quo Venus impositum devia fallit iter.
Carmen Seculare. For the Year 1700. To The King
© Matthew Prior
Thy elder Look, Great Janus, cast
Into the long Records of Ages past:
The First Fan
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHEN rose the cry "Great Pan is dead!"
And Jove's high palace closed its portal,
The fallen gods, before they fled,
Sold out their frippery to a mortal.
The Library
© George Crabbe
When the sad soul, by care and grief oppress'd,
Looks round the world, but looks in vain for rest;
Greek Religion
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Thou art become, oh Echo! a voice, an inanimate image;
Where is the palest of maids, dark--tressed, darkwreathèd with ivy,
Who with her lips half--opened, and gazes of beautiful wonder,
Quickly repeated the words that burst on her lonely recesses,
Low in a love--lorn tone, too deep--distracted to answer?
AN ELEGY Upon the most victorious King of Sweden Gustavus Adolphus
© Henry King
---O Famâ ingens ingentior armis
Rex Gustave, quibus Clo te laudibus æquem?
Virgil. Æneid. lib. 2.
Nostradamus's Prophecy
© Andrew Marvell
For faults and follies London's doom shall fix,
And she must sink in flames in "sixty-six";
The Voyage
© Charles Baudelaire
À Maxime du Camp
I
For the child, in love with globe, and stamps,
the universe equals his vast appetite.
An Elegy
© Thomas Randolph
Love, give me leave to serve thee and be wise,
To keep thy torch in but restore blind eyes.
