Religion poems

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Elegy XX. He Compares His Humble Fortune With the Distress of Others

© William Shenstone

Why droops this heart with fancied woes forlorn?
Why sinks my soul beneath this wintry sky?
What pensive crowds, by ceaseless labours worn,
What myriads, wish to be as blessed as I!

The Epilogue

© Richard Lovelace

The stubborne author of the trifle crime,
That just now cheated you of two hours' time,
Presumptuous it lik't him, began to grow
Carelesse, whether it pleased you or no.

In the night Reave dreamed that Helen
Lay with him in the deep grave, he awoke loathing her,
But when the weak moment between sleep and waking
Was past, his need of her and his judgment of her
Knew their suspended duel; and he heard her breathing,
Irregularly, gently in the dark.

Butch Weldy

© Edgar Lee Masters

After I got religion and steadied down
They gave me a job in the canning works,
And every morning I had to fill
The tank in the yard with gasoline,

The House of Fortune III

© Khalil Gibran

My wearied heart bade me farewell and left for the House of Fortune

Religion XXVI

© Khalil Gibran

And an old priest said, "Speak to us of Religion."

To a Friend, on the Death of a Relative.

© Mather Byles

I.
Great GOD, thy Works our Wonder raise,
To thee our swelling Notes belong;
While Skies, and Winds, and Rocks, and Seas,
Around shall echo to our Song.

In Imitation of E. of Rochester : On Silence

© Alexander Pope

I.
Silence! coeval with Eternity;
Thou wert, ere Nature's-self began to be,
'Twas one vast Nothing, all, and all slept fast in thee.

Bitter sweet

© Ivan Donn Carswell

The events
of September 11th
2001 remain bitter sweet;
as well as 2973 innocents

San Borondon

© Christopher Pearse Cranch

Saint Brandan, a Scotch abbot, long ago
Sailed southward with a swarm of monks, to sow
The seeds of true religion nothing else
Among the tribes of naked infidels.

Au Pied De Mon Lit

© Francis Jammes

Au pied de mon lit, une Vierge négresse

fut mise par ma mère. Et j'aime cette Vierge

To Mr. Rowland Woodward

© John Donne

LIKE one who in her third widowhood doth profess
Herself a nun, tied to retiredness,
So affects my Muse, now, a chaste fallowness.

Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto III

© Samuel Butler

Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated as to cheat;
As lookers-on feel most delight,
That least perceive a jugler's slight;
And still the less they understand,
The more th' admire his slight of hand.

The Ambush

© Nimah Nawwab

He watched the old movie unfold,
The head-covered man bashing his van into a building,
Nodding his head: Yes another one, they are terrorists,
The calm way he uttered those words
The look in his young eyes,
Made me ache.

Wittgenstein's Ladder

© David Lehman

"My propositions serve as elucidations in the following way:
anyone who understands them eventually recognizes them as
nonsensical, when he has used them -- as steps -- to climb
up beyond them. (He must, so to speak, throw away the ladder
after he has climbed up it.)" -- Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus

Paradise Lost : Book XII.

© John Milton

As one who in his journey bates at noon,

Though bent on speed; so here the Arch-Angel paused

A Quick One Before I Go

© David Lehman

There comes a time in every man's life
when he thinks: I have never had a single
original thought in my life
including this one & therefore I shall

The Third Satire Of Dr. John Donne

Compassion checks my spleen, yet Scorn denies
The tears a passage thro' my swelling eyes;
To laugh or weep at sins, might idly show,
Unheedful passion, or unfruitful woe.
Satyr! arise, and try thy sharper ways,
If ever Satyr cur'd an old disease.

Of The Nature Of Things: Book VI - Part 01 - Proem

© Lucretius

And since I've taught thee that the world's great vaults
Are mortal and that sky is fashioned
Of frame e'en born in time, and whatsoe'er
Therein go on and must perforce go on