A Hymn to God the Father
Wilt thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallow’d in, a score?
When thou hast done, thou hast not done,
For I have more.
I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore;
But swear by thyself, that at my death thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore;
And, having done that, thou hast done;
I fear no more.
–John Donne (1572-1631)
Here’s another poem by Donne: Batter My Heart
The Family
John Dickson Batten (1860-1932)
Oil on Canvas, 1886
Deposition
Fra Bartolomeo (1472-1517)
Oil on canvas, c. 1515
59-3/4 x 76-3/4 inches
I’m in the process of surveying my web pages and getting rid of some things I’m no longer pleased with, moving some things to the blog, reorganizing some things, etc. But I don’t really know what to do with the poetry I’ve written that I had on the web site, much of which I now view with mixed feelings.
Though they vary significantly in style, tone, and quality, I had originally chosen to make each poem public for one reason or other, so for the time being, I’m going to link from here to the poems’ pages themselves but refrain from re-posting them here at this time.
Inheritance
Plea
Song of Solitude
Untitled, 1988
Untitled, 2004
The Walking Wounded
What Harvest?
A poem begins with a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a home-sickness, or a love-sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is one where the emotion has found its thought, and the thought has found the words.
– Robert Frost (1874-1963)
“I don’t deserve any credit for turning the other cheek as my tongue is always in it.”
- Flannery O’Connor (1925-1964)
Praise Him! Praise Him! Jesus, our blessèd Redeemer!
Sing, O Earth, His wonderful love proclaim!
Hail Him! hail Him! highest archangels in glory;
Strength and honor give to His holy Name!
Like a shepherd, Jesus will guard His children,
In His arms He carries them all day long:
Refrain
Praise Him! Praise Him!
Tell of His excellent greatness.
Praise Him! Praise Him!
Ever in joyful song!
Praise Him! Praise Him! Jesus, our blessèd Redeemer!
For our sins He suffered, and bled, and died.
He our Rock, our hope of eternal salvation,
Hail Him! hail Him! Jesus the Crucified.
Sound His praises! Jesus who bore our sorrows,
Love unbounded, wonderful, deep and strong.
Refrain
Praise Him! Praise Him! Jesus, our blessèd Redeemer!
Heav’nly portals loud with hosannas ring!
Jesus, Savior, reigneth forever and ever.
Crown Him! Crown Him! Prophet, and Priest, and King!
Christ is coming! over the world victorious,
Pow’r and glory unto the Lord belong.
Refrain
-Frances Jane Crosby (1820-1915)
Etching by Carl Heinrich Bloch (1834-1890).
Etching by Carl Heinrich Bloch (1834-1890).
The Ruined Chapel
By the shore, a plot of ground
Clips a ruin’d chapel round,
Buttress’d with a grassy mound;
Where Day and Night and Day go by,
And bring no touch of human sound.
Washing of the lonely seas,
Shaking of the guardian trees,
Piping of the salted breeze;
Day and Night and Day go by
To the endless tune of these.
Or when, as winds and waters keep
A hush more dead than any sleep,
Still morns to stiller evenings creep,
And Day and Night and Day go by;
Here the silence is most deep.
The empty ruins, lapsed again
Into Nature’s wide domain,
Sow themselves with seed and grain
As Day and Night and Day go by;
And hoard June’s sun and April’s rain.
Here fresh funeral tears were shed;
Now the graves are also dead;
And suckers from the ash-tree spread,
While Day and Night and Day go by;
And stars move calmly overhead.
–From Sixteen Poems by William Allingham: Selected by William Butler Yeats by William Allingham
(William Allingham on Amazon
)