Forgiveness

Related poetry:

1. Forgiveness AT dusk the window panes grew grey; The wet world vanished in the gloom; The dim and silver end of day Scarce glimmered through the little room. And all my sins were told; I said Such things to her who knew not sin- The sharp ache throbbing in my head, The fever running high within. […]...
2. A Sea-Shore Grave. To M. J. L By Sidney and Clifford Lanier. O wish that’s vainer than the plash Of these wave-whimsies on the shore: “Give us a pearl to fill the gash God, let our dead friend live once more!” O wish that’s stronger than the stroke Of yelling wave and snapping levin; “God, lift us o’er the Last Day’s smoke, […]...
3. A Gravestone Far from the churchyard dig his grave, On some green mound beside the wave; To westward, sea and sky alone, And sunsets. Put a mossy stone, With mortal name and date, a harp And bunch of wild flowers, carven sharp; Then leave it free to winds that blow, And patient mosses creeping; slow, And wandering […]...
4. Song of Innisfail They came from a land beyond the sea, And now o’er the western main Set sail, in their good ships, gallantly, From the sunny land of Spain. “Oh, where’s the isle we’ve seen in dreams, Our destined home or grave?” Thus sung they as, by the morning’s beams, They swept the Atlantic wave. And lo, […]...
5. The Lover Asks Forgiveness Because Of His Many Moods If this importunate heart trouble your peace With words lighter than air, Or hopes that in mere hoping flicker and cease; Crumple the rose in your hair; And cover your lips with odorous twilight and say, ‘O Hearts of wind-blown flame! O Winds, older than changing of night and day, That murmuring and longing came […]...
6. The Sad Shepherd There was a man whom Sorrow named his Friend, And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming, Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming And humming Sands, where windy surges wend: And he called loudly to the stars to bend From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they Among themselves laugh on and […]...
7. The Temper (II) It cannot be. Where is that mighty joy, Which just now took up all my heart? Lord, if thou must needs use thy dart, Save that, and me; or sin for both destroy. The grosser world stand to thy word and art; But thy diviner world of grace Thou suddenly dost raise and race, And […]...
8. 193. On Scaring some Water-Fowl in Lock Turit WHY, ye tenants of the lake, For me your wat’ry haunt forsake? Tell me, fellow-creatures, why At my presence thus you fly? Why disturb your social joys, Parent, filial, kindred ties?- Common friend to you and me, Yature’s gifts to all are free: Peaceful keep your dimpling wave, Busy feed, or wanton lave; Or, beneath […]...
9. Sonnet 04 What tho’ no sculptur’d monument proclaim Thy fate-yet Albert in my breast I bear Inshrin’d the sad remembrance; yet thy name Will fill my throbbing bosom. When DESPAIR The child of murdered HOPE, fed on thy heart, Loved honored friend, I saw thee sink forlorn Pierced to the soul by cold Neglect’s keen dart, And […]...
10. The Lost Friend The people take the thing of course, They marvel not to see This strange, unnatural divorce Betwixt delight and me. I know the face of sorrow, and I know Her voice with all its varied cadences; Which way she turns and treads; how at her ease Things fit her dreary largess to bestow. Where sorrow […]...
11. An English Wood This valley wood is pledged To the set shape of things, And reasonably hedged: Here are no harpies fledged, No rocs may clap their wings, Nor gryphons wave their stings. Here, poised in quietude, Calm elementals brood On the set shape of things: They fend away alarms From this green wood. Here nothing is that […]...
12. Race of Veterans RACE of veterans! Race of victors! Race of the soil, ready for conflict! race of the conquering march! (No more credulity’s race, abiding-temper’d race;) Race henceforth owning no law but the law of itself; Race of passion and the storm. 5...
13. An Irish Face NOT her own sorrow only that hath place Upon yon gentle face. Too slight have been her childhood’s years to gain The imprint of such pain. It hid behind her laughing hours, and wrought Each curve in saddest thought On brow and lips and eyes. With subtle art It made that little heart Through its […]...
14. Thomas Hood The man who cloaked his bitterness within This winding-sheet of puns and pleasantries, God never gave to look with common eyes Upon a world of anguish and of sin: His brother was the branded man of Lynn; And there are woven with his jollities The nameless and eternal tragedies That render hope and hopelessness akin. […]...
15. In Memoriam A. H. H.: 6. One writes, that Other Friends Rem One writes, that “Other friends remain,” That “Loss is common to the race” And common is the commonplace, And vacant chaff well meant for grain. That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more. Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break. O father, wheresoe’er thou be, […]...
16. Hate I had a bitter enemy, His heart to hate he gave, And when I died he swore that he Would dance upon my grave; That he would leap and laugh because A livid corpse was I, And that’s the reason why I was In no great haste to die. And then – such is the […]...
17. CALM AT SEA SILENCE deep rules o’er the waters, Calmly slumb’ring lies the main, While the sailor views with trouble Nought but one vast level plain. Not a zephyr is in motion! Silence fearful as the grave! In the mighty waste of ocean Sunk to rest is ev’ry wave. 1795....
18. The Color of the Grave is Green The Color of the Grave is Green The Outer Grave I mean You would not know it from the Field Except it own a Stone To help the fond to find it Too infinite asleep To stop and tell them where it is But just a Daisy deep The Color of the Grave is white […]...
19. Snail Poem Make my grave shape of heart so like a flower be free aired & handsome felt, Grave root pillow, tung up from grave & wigle at blown up clowd. Ear turnes close to underlayer of green felt moss & sound of rain dribble thru this layer down to the roots that will tickle my ear. […]...
20. My Dead Dream HAVE YOU found me, at last, O my Dream? Seven eons ago You died and I buried you deep under forests of snow. Why have you come hither? Who bade you awake from your sleep And track me beyond the cerulean foam of the deep? Would you tear from my lintels these sacred green garlands […]...
21. Phedre (To Sarah Bernhardt) How vain and dull this common world must seem To such a One as thou, who should’st have talked At Florence with Mirandola, or walked Through the cool olives of the Academe: Thou should’st have gathered reeds from a green stream For Goat-foot Pan’s shrill piping, and have played With the white […]...
22. Joy and Sorrow chapter VIII Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.” And he answered: Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain. […]...
23. Penelope In the pathway of the sun, In the footsteps of the breeze, Where the world and sky are one, He shall ride the silver seas, He shall cut the glittering wave. I shall sit at home, and rock; Rise, to heed a neighbor’s knock; Brew my tea, and snip my thread; Bleach the linen for […]...
24. A Fallen Leaf A trusting little leaf of green, A bold audacious frost; A rendezvous, a kiss or two, And youth for ever lost. Ah, me! The bitter, bitter cost. A flaunting patch of vivid red, That quivers in the sun; A windy gust, a grave of dust, The little race is run. Ah, me! Were that the […]...
25. Burial Mine is a body that should die at sea! And have for a grave, instead of a grave Six feet deep and the length of me, All the water that is under the wave! And terrible fishes to seize my flesh, Such as a living man might fear, And eat me while I am firm […]...
26. Lines to the memory of Richard Boyle, Esq “Fate snatch’d him early to the pitying sky.” – POPE. IF WORTH, too early to the grave consign’d, Can claim the pitying tear, or touch the mind? If manly sentiments unstain’d by art, Could waken FRIENDSHIP, or delight the heart? Ill-fated youth! to THEE the MUSE shall pay The last sad tribute of a mournful […]...
27. Ripeness With peace and rest And wisdom sage, Ripeness is best Of every age. With hands that fold In pensive prayer, For grave-yard mold Prepare. From fighting free With fear forgot, Let ripeness be, Before the rot. With heart of cheer At eighty odd, How man grows near To God! With passion spent And life nigh […]...
28. The Tropics in New York Bananas ripe and green, and ginger-root, Cocoa in pods and alligator pears, And tangerines and mangoes and grape fruit, Fit for the highest prize at parish fairs, Set in the window, bringing memories Of fruit-trees laden by low-singing rills, And dewy dawns, and mystical blue skies In benediction over nun-like hills. My eyes grew dim, […]...
29. Hymn 42 Divine wrath and mercy. Nah. 1:1-3; Heb. 12:29. Adore and tremble, for our God Is a consuming fire! His jealous eyes his wrath inflame, And raise his vengeance higher. Almighty vengeance, how it burns! How bright his fury glows! Vast magazines of plagues and storms Lie treasured for his foes. Those heaps of wrath, by […]...
30. My Vineyard To me at night the stars are vocal. They say: ‘Your planet’s oh so local! A speck of dust in heaven’s ceiling; Your faith divine a foolish feeling. What odds if you are chaos hurled, Yours is a silly little world.’ For their derision, haply true, I hate the stars, as wouldn’t you? But whether […]...
31. The Autumn Go, sit upon the lofty hill, And turn your eyes around, Where waving woods and waters wild Do hymn an autumn sound. The summer sun is faint on them The summer flowers depart Sit still as all transform’d to stone, Except your musing heart. How there you sat in summer-time, May yet be in your […]...
32. Apologia Is it thy will that I should wax and wane, Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey, And at thy pleasure weave that web of pain Whose brightest threads are each a wasted day? Is it thy will – Love that I love so well – That my Soul’s House should be a tortured […]...
33. A Forest Hymn The groves were God’s first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them, – ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems; in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the […]...
34. Ye Mariners of England 1 Ye Mariners of England 2 That guard our native seas, 3 Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, 4 The battle and the breeze 5 Your glorious standard launch again 6 To match another foe! 7 And sweep through the deep, 8 While the stormy winds do blow, 9 While the battle rages loud […]...
35. In 200 B. C “Alexander son of Philip, and the Greeks except the Lacedaemonians “ We can very well imagine That they were utterly indifferent in Sparta To this inscription. “Except the Lacedaemonians”, But naturally. The Spartans were not To be led and ordered about As precious servants. Besides A panhellenic campaign without A Spartan king as a leader […]...
36. A Passing Hail Let us rest ourselves a bit! Worry? wave your hand to it Kiss your finger-tips and smile It farewell a little while. Weary of the weary way We have come from Yesterday, Let us fret not, instead, Of the wary way ahead. Let us pause and catch our breath On the hither side of death, […]...
37. Power The mighty sound of forests murmuring In answer to the dread command; The stars that shudder when their king Extends his hand, His awful hand to bless, to curse; or moves Toward the dimmest den In the thick leaves, not known of loves Or nymphs or men; (Only the sylph’s frail gossamer may wave Their […]...
38. Amor Intellectualis Oft have we trod the vales of Castaly And heard sweet notes of sylvan music blown From antique reeds to common folk unknown: And often launched our bark upon that sea Which the nine Muses hold in empery, And ploughed free furrows through the wave and foam, Nor spread reluctant sail for more safe home […]...
39. Psalm 51 part 3 The backslider restored. O Thou that hear’st when sinners cry, Though all my crimes before thee lie, Behold them not with angry look, But blot their mem’ry from thy book. Create my nature pure within, And form my soul averse to sin: Let thy good Spirit ne’er depart, Nor hide thy presence from my heart. […]...
40. December At Yase You said, that October, In the tall dry grass by the orchard When you chose to be free, “Again someday, maybe ten years.” After college I saw you One time. You were strange, And I was obsessed with a plan. Now ten years and more have Gone by: I’ve always known where you were- I […]...