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    Poems of Faith
    Poems of Faith
    Poems of Faith
    Ebook247 pages57 minutes

    Poems of Faith

    By Dover Publications

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    About this ebook

    The best-known works of more than 60 British and American poets, written over a period of nearly 400 years, comprise this superb collection of verse. Focusing on poems of faith — inspiring, comforting, and profound works with religious themes and ideals — the volume includes "Holy Sonnets" by John Donne, Ben Jonson's "To the Holy Trinity," "Paradise" by George Herbert, "On His Blindness" by John Milton, as well as poems by Andrew Marvell, Thomas Traherne, Edward Taylor, Samuel Johnson, William Cowper, William Blake, Emily Bronte, Christina Rossetti, Emily Dickinson, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and many others. A rich treasury of stirring verse, this collection is ideal for classroom use or for independent study but will also appeal to lovers of exceptional English and American poetry. Dover original selection of poems from standard editions.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDover Publications
    Release dateJan 15, 2013
    ISBN9780486112183
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      Poems of Faith - Dover Publications

      Lines

      Anonymous (c. 1539)

      To the Book

      Go, little Book, get thee acquaintance

      Among the lovers of God’s word,

      Give them occasion the same to a’vance,

      And to make their songs of the Lord,

      That they may thrust under the board

      All other Ballads of filthiness,

      And that we all with one accord

      May give ensample of godliness.

      Go, little Book, among men’s children,

      And get thee to their company;

      Teach them to sing the Commandments Ten,

      And other Ballads of God’s glory:

      Be not ashamed, I warrant thee,

      Though thou be rude in song and rhyme,

      Thou shalt to youth some occasion be,

      In godly sports to pass their time.

      The Lamentation of a Sinner

      O Lord, in Thee is all my trust,

      give ear unto my woeful cry:

      Refuse me not that am unjust,

      but bowing down Thy heavenly eye,

      Behold how I do still lament

      my sins wherein I do offend;

      O Lord, for them shall I be shunned,

      when Thee to please I do intend?

      No, no, not so Thy will is bent,

      to deal with sinners in Thine ire;

      But when in heart they shall repent,

      Thou grantst with speed their just desire:

      To Thee therefore still shall I cry

      to wash away my sinful crime:

      Thy blood (O Lord) is not yet dry

      but that Thou may help me in time.

      For why will I on earth remain

      oppressed, alas!, with woe and grief?

      My feeble heart plunged in pain,

      doth sigh and sough for Thy relief.

      Sweet Christ, will Thou not then appear,

      to comfort them that comfort lack?

      Will Thou riot bow Thine ear to hear?

      Lord Jesus, come and be not slack!

      For then shall Thine receive their rest;

      their joy, their bliss, their perfect peace,

      And see Thy face of treasure best,

      O Lord, that does our joys increase.

      Then shall Thou give those Noble crowns,

      which Thine own blood has dearly bought.

      Then shall those Psalms and high Renowns

      be given in grace most richly wrought.

      Then shall Thy Saints redeemed dear,

      from bail to bliss removed be:

      And sweet Christ, Thy sweet voice hear

      come unto me babes, come to me.

      Come Reign in joy Eternally,

      come reign in bliss that has no end,

      Come therefore, Lord! Come, Christ, we pray,

      our pressed grief with speed amend.

      Haste Thee, O Lord, haste thee, I say,

      to pour on me the gifts of grace;

      That when this life must flit away,

      in heaven with Thee I may have place.

      Where Thou dost reign eternally,

      with God, which once did down thee send,

      Where Angels sing continually,

      to Thee be praise, world without end.

      SO BE IT.

      Anonymous (c. 1558)

      God be in my head

      God be in my head,

      And in my understanding;

      God be in mine eyes,

      And in my looking;

      God be in my mouth,

      And in my speaking;

      God be in my heart,

      And in my thinking;

      God be at mine end,

      And at my departing.

      George Gascoigne (1525?–1577)

      De Profundis

      From depth of dole wherein my soul doth dwell,

      From heavy heart which harbours in my breast,

      From troubled sprite which seldom taketh rest,

      From hope of heaven, from dread of darksome hell,

      O gracious God, to thee I cry and yell:

      My God, my Lord, my lovely Lord alone,

      To thee I call, to thee I make my moan.

      And thou, good God, vouchsafe in grace to take

      This woful paint

      Wherein I faint:—

      Oh, hear me then, for thy great mercy’s sake!

      Oh, bend thine ears attentively to hear;

      Oh, turn thine eyes—behold me now I wail;

      Oh, hearken, Lord, give ear for mine avail;

      Oh, mark in mind the burdens that I bear!

      See how I sink in sorrows everywhere;

      Behold and see what dolours I endure;

      Give ear and mark what plaints I put in ure;

      Bend willing ears, and pity therewithal

      My wailing voice,

      Which hath no choice

      But evermore upon thy name to call.

      If thou, good Lord, shouldst take thy rod in hand,

      If thou regard what sins are daily done,

      If thou take hold where we our works begun,

      If thou decree in judgment for to stand

      And be extreme to see our ’scuses scann’d,—

      If thou take note of every thing amiss,

      And write in rolls how frail our nature is,

      O glorious God! O King!O Prince of power!

      What mortal wight

      May then have light

      To feel thy frown, if thou have list to lower?

      But thou art good, and hast of mercy store;

      Thou not delight’st to see a sinner fall;

      Thou hearkenest first before we come to call;

      Thy ears are set wide open evermore;

      Before we knock thou comest to the door;

      Thou art more prest to hear a sinner cry,

      Than he is quick to climb to thee on high.

      Thy mighty name be praised then alway:

      Let faith and fear

      True witness bear,

      How fast they stand which on thy mercy stay.

      I look for thee, my lovely Lord, therefore;

      For thee I wait, for thee I tarry still;

      Mine eyes do long to gaze on thee my fill;

      For thee I watch, for thee I pry and pore;

      My soul for thee attendeth evermore;

      My soul doth thirst to take of thee a taste;

      My soul desires with thee for to be placed;

      And to thy word, which can no man deceive,—

      Mine only trust,

      My love and lust,—

      In confidence continually shall cleave.

      Before the break or dawning of the day,

      Before the light be seen in lofty skies,

      Before the sun appear in pleasant wise,

      Before the watch—before the watch, I say,

      Before the ward that waits therefore alway,

      My soul, my sense, my secret thought, my sprite,

      My will, my wish, my joy, and my delight,

      Unto the Lord, that sits in heaven on high,

      With hasty wing,

      From me doth fling,

      And striveth still unto the Lord to fly.

      O Israel, O household of the

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