Browse Sermon Illustrations
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The Fear of Flowers
The nodding oxeye bends before the wind, The woodbine quakes lest boys their flowers should find, And prickly dogrose spite of its array Can't dare the blossom-seeking hand away, While thistles wear t
I cannot dance upon my Toes
I cannot dance upon my Toes -- No Man instructed me -- But oftentimes, among my mind, A Glee possesseth me, That had I Ballet knowledge -- Would put itself abroad In Pirouette to blanch a Troupe -- O
Stonepit
The passing traveller with wonder sees A deep and ancient stonepit full of trees; So deep and very deep the place has been, The church might stand within and not be seen. The passing stranger oft with
Young Lambs
The spring is coming by a many signs; The trays are up, the hedges broken down, That fenced the haystack, and the remnant shines Like some old antique fragment weathered brown. And where suns peep
Sonnet 20: A woman's face with nature's own hand painted
A woman's face with nature's own hand painted, Hast thou, the master mistress of my passion; A woman's gentle heart, but not acquainted With shifting change, as is false women's fashion: An eye more b
A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree --
A Drop Fell on the Apple Tree -- Another -- on the Roof -- A Half a Dozen kissed the Eaves -- And made the Gables laugh -- A few went out to help the Brook That went to help the Sea -- Myself Conject
Sonnet 105: Let not my love be call'd idolatry
Let not my love be call'd idolatry, Nor my beloved as an idol show, Since all alike my songs and praises be To one, of one, still such, and ever so. Kind is my love to-day, to-morrow kind, Still const
Firwood
The fir trees taper into twigs and wear The rich blue green of summer all the year, Softening the roughest tempest almost calm And offering shelter ever still and warm To the small path that towels un
Sonnet 116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark, That looks on
On the Dark Height of Jura
Ghosts of the dead! have I not heard your yelling Rise on the night-rolling breath of the blast, When o'er the dark aether the tempest is swelling, And on eddying whirlwind the thunder-peal passed? F
Holy Sonnet I: Tho Has Made Me
Tho has made me, and shall thy work decay? Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste; I run to death, and death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday. I dare not move my dim eyes
The First Kiss of Love
Ha barbitos de chordais Er_ota mounon aechei. - Anacreon Away with your fictions of flimsy romance, Those tissues of falsehood which Folly has wove; Give me the mild beam of the soul-breathing
Sonnet 98: From you have I been absent in the spring
From you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dress'd in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in every thing, That heavy Saturn laugh'd and leap'd with him. Yet nor the lays of
Ourselves were wed one summer -- dear --
Ourselves were wed one summer -- dear -- Your Vision -- was in June -- And when Your little Lifetime failed, I wearied -- too -- of mine -- And overtaken in the Dark -- Where You had put me down -- B
Sonnet 80: O! how I faint when I of you do write
O! how I faint when I of you do write, Knowing a better spirit doth use your name, And in the praise thereof spends all his might, To make me tongue-tied speaking of your fame! But since your worth--w
To Florence
Oh Lady! when I left the shore, The distant shore which gave me birth, I hardly thought to grieve once more, To quit another spot on earth: Yet here, amidst this barren isle, Where panting Natu
Emmonsail's Heath in Winter
I love to see the old heath's withered brake Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling, While the old heron from the lonely lake Starts slow and flaps his melancholy wing, And oddling crow in idl
Those fair -- fictitious People
Those fair -- fictitious People -- The Women -- plucked away From our familiar Lifetime -- The Men of Ivory -- Those Boys and Girls, in Canvas -- Who stay upon the Wall In Everlasting Keepsake -- Can
Roses And Rue
(To L. L.) Could we dig up this long-buried treasure, Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love's song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is fled Call back its dead,
And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair
And thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so rare, Too soon returned to Earth! Though Earth received them in her bed, And o'er the spot the crowd
Sonnet 142: Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate
Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate, Hate of my sin, grounded on sinful loving: O! but with mine compare thou thine own state, And thou shalt find it merits not reproving; Or, if it do, not from
A Parody on “A Psalm of Life”
Life is real, life is earnest, And the shell is not its pen – “Egg thou art, and egg remainest” Was not spoken of the hen. Art is long and Time is fleeting, Be our bills then sharpened well, And not
Summer Evening
The frog half fearful jumps across the path, And little mouse that leaves its hole at eve Nimbles with timid dread beneath the swath; My rustling steps awhile their joys deceive, Till past,--and then
Summer and Winter
It was a bright and cheerful afternoon, Towards the end of the sunny month of June, When the north wind congregates in crowds The floating mountains of the silver clouds From the horizon--and the stai