Religion poems

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35

The Missionary - Canto Third

© William Lisle Bowles

Come,--for the sun yet hangs above the bay,--

And whilst our time may brook a brief delay

BRAVE the anger of the wealthy! Scorn their bitter lying spite!
Tell the Truth in simple language, when you know that you are right!
And theyll read it by the slush-lamps in the station huts at night,

Jinny the Just

© Matthew Prior

Releas'd from the noise of the butcher and baker
Who, my old friends be thanked, did seldom forsake her,
And from the soft duns of my landlord the Quaker,

Julian and Maddalo : A Conversation

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand,

The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece

© 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.

249. Sappho Redivivus: A Fragment

© Robert Burns

BY all I lovd, neglected and forgot,
No friendly face eer lights my squalid cot;
Shunnd, hated, wrongd, unpitied, unredrest,
The mockd quotation of the scorners jest!

83. The Cotters Saturday Night

© Robert Burns

MY lovd, my honourd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friends esteem and praise:

77. Epitaph on John Dove, Innkeeper

© Robert Burns

Strong ale was ablution,
Small beer persecution,
A dram was memento mori;
But a full-flowing bowl
Was the saving his soul,
And port was celestial glory.

110. Epistle to a Young Friend

© Robert Burns

May, 1786.I LANG hae thought, my youthfu friend,
A something to have sent you,
Tho it should serve nae ither end
Than just a kind memento:

70. Epistle to the Rev. John MMath

© Robert Burns

Pardon this freedom I have taen,
An if impertinent Ive been,
Impute it not, good Sir, in ane
Whase heart neer wrangd ye,
But to his utmost would befriend
Ought that belangd ye.

Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts I.-II.

© John Logan

Yet lost to fame is virtue's orient reign;
The patriot lived, the hero died in vain,
Dark night descended o'er the human day,
And wiped the glory of the world away:
Whirled round the gulf, the acts of time were tost,
Then in the vast abyss for ever lost.

The Ghost - Book II

© Charles Churchill

A sacred standard rule we find,

By poets held time out of mind,

A Lover's Complaint

© William Shakespeare

FROM off a hill whose concave womb reworded
A plaintful story from a sistering vale,
My spirits to attend this double voice accorded,
And down I laid to list the sad-tuned tale;

The Vanity of Human Wishes (excerpts)

45 Yet still one gen'ral cry the skies assails,
46 And gain and grandeur load the tainted gales,
47 Few know the toiling statesman's fear or care,
48 Th' insidious rival and the gaping heir.

Classical Indian Explanation: Music

past the hippies
past Ravi Shankar
eons before
when the first Asian snake

from imperfect Eden

© Rg Gregory

(1)
and off to scott's (the dockers' restaurant)
burly men packed in round solid tables
but what the helle (drowned in hellespont)

Experience

© Jane Taylor

--A COSTLY good ; that none e'er bought or sold
For gem, or pearl, or miser's store, twice told :
Save certain watery pearls, possessed by all,
Which, one by one, may buy it as they fall.
Of these, though precious, few will not suffice,
So slow the traffic, and so large the price !