Forgiveness poems

/ page 7 of 10 /

Order by :

The Canterbury Tales; CHAUCER'S TALE OF SIR THOPAS

Shakuntala Act VII (Final Act)

ACT VII
King Dushyant with Matali in the chariot of Indra (king of gods in heaven and also god of thunder), supposed to be above the clouds.
King Dushyant: I am sensible, O Matali, that, for having executed the commission which Indra gave me, I deserved not such a profusion of honours.

Giovanni Malatesta At Rimini

© Arthur Symons

Giovanni Malatesta, the lame old man,

Walking one night, as he was used, being old,

The Fever-Dream

© Caroline Norton

IT was a fever-dream; I lay
Awake, as in the broad bright day,
But faint and worn I drew my breath
Like those who wait for coming death;

Margaret Of Cortona

© Edith Wharton

I rave, you say? You start from me, Fra Paolo?
Go, then; your going leaves me not alone.
I marvel, rather, that I feared the question,
Since, now I name it, it draws near to me
With such dear reassurance in its eyes,
And takes your place beside me. . .

Manhattan Streets I Saunter'd, Pondering

© Walt Whitman

Manhatten's streets I saunter'd, pondering,
On time, space, reality-on such as these, and abreast with them,
prudence.

The Vulture (Parody of Poe's "Raven")

© Anonymous

Once upon a midnight chilling, as I held my feet unwilling
O'er a tub of scalding water, at a heat of ninety-four;
Nervously a toe in dipping, dripping, slipping, then out-skipping,
Suddenly there came a ripping whipping, at my chamber's door.
"'Tis the second-floor," I muttered, "flipping at my chamber's door--
Wants a light--and nothing more!"

Hymn XXIX: Come, Ye Weary Sinners, Come

© Charles Wesley

Come, ye weary sinners, come,

All who groan beneath your load,

Psalm 78 part 4

© Isaac Watts

v.32ff
L. M.
Backsliding and forgiveness; or, Sin punished and saints saved.

The Children Of The Lord's Supper. (From The Swedish Of Bishop Tegner)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Closed was the Teacher's task, and with heaven in their hearts and their faces,
Up rose the children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely,
Downward to kiss that reverend hand, but all of them pressed he
Moved to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer, his hands full of blessings,
Now on the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses.

Commination

© John Keble

The prayers are o'er: why slumberest thou so long,

Thou voice of sacred song?

The Monks of St. Mark

© Thomas Love Peacock

'Tis midnight: the sky is with clouds overcast;
The forest-trees bend in the loud-rushing blast;
The rain strongly beats on these time-hallow'd spires;
The lightning pours swiftly its blue-pointed fires;
Triumphant the tempest-fiend rides in the dark,
And howls round the old abbey-walls of St. Mark!

The Rest

© Margaret Atwood

The rest of us watch from beyond the fence
as the woman moves with her jagged stride
into her pain as if into a slow race.
We see her body in motion

Elegy IV. Anno Aet. 18. To My Tutor, Thomas Young, Chaplain Of The English Merchants Resident At Ham

Hence, my epistle--skim the Deep--fly o'er

Yon smooth expanse to the Teutonic shore!

The Romance Of The Knight

The pleasing sweets of spring and summer past,

The falling leaf flies in the sultry blast,

Forgiveness

ASK not my pardon! For if one hath need
Once to forgive the god that he hath raised,
No further creed
Can that god give; but 'neath the soul who praised
Lies bruisèd like a reed.

Peruvian Tales: Zilia, Tale III

PIZARRO takes possession of Cuzco-The fanaticism of VALVERDA , a
Spanish priest-Its dreadful effects-A Peruvian priest put to the tor-
ture-His Daughter's distress-He is rescued by LAS CASAS , a Spa-
nish ecclesiastic-And led to a place of safety, where he dies-His
Daughter's narration of her sufferings-Her death.