flight
From life’s glad morning to it’s solemn
night;
Yet through thee dear God’s love, I also
show
There’s Light above me by the shade
below.
Similar Posts
STILL in thy streets, O Paris! doth the stain
Still breaks the smoke Messina’s ruins through,And Naples mourns that new Bartholomew,When squalid beggary, for a dole of bread,At a crowned murderer’s beck of license, fedThe yawning trenches with her noble dead;Still, doomed Vienna, through thy stately hallsThe shell goes crashing and the red shot falls,And, leagued to crush thee, on the Danube’s side,The bearded…
In trance and dream of old, God’s prophet saw
The hot Sardinian coast-line, hazy-hilled,Where, fringing round Caprera’s rocky zoneWith foam, the slow waves gather and withdraw,Behold’st the vision of the seer fulfilled,And hear’st the sea-winds burdened with a soundOf falling chains, as, one by one, unbound,The nations lift their right hands up and swearTheir oath of freedom. From the chalk-white wallOf England, from the…
‘Put up the sword!’ The voice of Christ once more
O’er fields of corn by fiery sickles reapedAnd left dry ashes; over trenches heapedWith nameless dead; o’er cities starving slowUnder a rain of fire; through wards of woeDown which a groaning diapason runsFrom tortured brothers, husbands, lovers, sonsOf desolate women in their far-off homesWaiting to hear the step that never comes!O men and brothers! let…
God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above:
‘Arise,’ He said, ‘my angels! a wail of woe and sinSteals through the gates of heaven, and saddens all within.‘My harps take up the mournful strain that from a lost world swells,The smoke of torment clouds the light and blights the asphodels.‘Fly downward to that under world, and on its souls of pain,Let Love drop…
From the Mahabharata.
Which from the night shall drive thy peace away.In months of sun so live that months of rainShall still be happy. Evermore restrainEvil and cherish good, so shall there beAnother and a happier life for thee.
BENEATH the low-hung night cloud
The good ship settled slowly,The cruel leak gained fast.Over the awful oceanHer signal guns pealed out.Dear God! was that Thy answerFrom the horror round about?A voice came down the wild wind,‘Ho! ship ahoy!’ its cry‘Our stout Three Bells of GlasgowShall lay till daylight by!’Hour after hour crept slowly,Yet on the heaving swellsTossed up and down…