Trust poems
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The Ranger
© John Greenleaf Whittier
ROBERT RAWLIN!--Frosts were falling
When the ranger's horn was calling
Through the woods to Canada.
Ah, Woe Is Me, My Mother Dear
© Robert Burns
Ah, woe is me, my mother dear!
A man of strife ye've born me:
For sair contention I maun bear;
They hate, revile, and scorn me.
The Builders
© Henry Van Dyke
ODE FOR THE HUNDRED AND FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF PRINCETON COLLEGE
October 21, 1896
The Weeds Counsel
© Bliss William Carman
SAID a traveller by the way
Pausing, "What hast thou to say,
Flower by the dusty road,
That would ease a mortal's load?"
The Gardener LXXIX: I Often Wonder
© Rabindranath Tagore
I often wonder where lie hidden
the boundaries of recognition between
Spinning
© Helen Hunt Jackson
Like a blind spinner in the sun,
I tread my days;
I know that all the threads will run
Appointed ways;
I know each day will bring its task,
And, being blind, no more I ask.
On a Spanish Cathedral
© Henry Kendall
DEEP under the spires of a hill, by the feet of the thunder-cloud trod,
I pause in a luminous, still, magnificent temple of God!
A Dead Woman
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
Not a kiss in life; but one kiss, at lifes end,
I have set on the face of Death in trust for thee.
Through long years keep it fresh on thy lips, 0 friend!
At the gate of Silence give it back to me.
The Trust
© Katharine Tynan
To you, O Sr Therèse of Lisieux,
Fresh as a morning rose in morning dew,
We give our men in keeping:
Watch them waking, watch them sleeping.
Lest our hearts should break, O keep trust and be true!
The Song
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
MY soul, lost in the music's mist,
Roamed, rapt, 'neath skies of amethyst,
Theology in Extremis: Or a soliloquy that may have been delivered in India, June, 1857
© Alfred Comyn Lyall
Oft in the pleasant summer years,
Reading the tales of days bygone,
I have mused on the story of human tears,
All that man unto man had done,
Massacre, torture, and black despair;
Reading it all in my easy-chair.
The Force of Argument
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Lord B. was a nobleman bold
Who came of illustrious stocks,
He was thirty or forty years old,
And several feet in his socks.
On Board The '76
© James Russell Lowell
Our ship lay tumbling in an angry sea,
Her rudder gone, her mainmast o'er the side;
Her scuppers, from the waves' clutch staggering free,
Trailed threads of priceless crimson through the tide;
Sails, shrouds, and spars with pirate cannon torn,
We lay, awaiting morn.
To France
© Frederick George Scott
What is the gift we have given thee, Sister?
What is the trust we have laid in thy hand?
Hearts of our bravest, our best, and our dearest,
Blood of our blood we have sown in thy land.
Influence
© Edgar Albert Guest
This I think as I go my way:
What can matter the words I say,
And what can matter the false or true
Of any deed I am moved to do?
The Violet
© Jones Very
Thou tellest truths unspoken yet by man
By this thy lonely home and modest look;
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part IV
© Caroline Norton
Not vacant in the day of which I write!
Then rose thy pillared columns fair and white;
Then floated out the odorous pleasant scent
Of cultured shrubs and flowers together blent,
And o'er the trim-kept gravel's tawny hue
Warm fell the shadows and the brightness too.
