God poems

 / page 191 of 194 /
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Psalm 73 part 2

© Isaac Watts

v.23-28
C. M.
God our portion here and hereafter.

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Psalm 45

© Isaac Watts

My Savior and my King,
Thy beauties are divine;
Thy lips with blessings overflow,
And every grace is thine.

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Psalm 135

© Isaac Watts

Awake, ye saints; to praise your King,
Your sweetest passions raise,
Your pious pleasure, while you sing,
Increasing with the praise.

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Hymn 85

© Isaac Watts

The Lord on high proclaims
His Godhead from his throne:
"Mercy and justice are the names
By which I will be known.

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Hymn 2

© Isaac Watts

Ere the blue heav'ns were stretched abroad,
From everlasting was the Word:
With God he was; the Word was God,
And must divinely be adored.

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The Sun Weilds Mercy

© Charles Bukowski

and the sun weilds mercy
but like a jet torch carried to high,
and the jets whip across its sight
and rockets leap like toads,

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Now

© Charles Bukowski

I sit here on the 2nd floor
hunched over in yellow
pajamas
still pretending to be

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Melancholia

© Charles Bukowski

the history of melancholia
includes all of us.
me, I writhe in dirty sheets
while staring at blue walls

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Writing

© Charles Bukowski

often it is the only
thing
between you and
impossibility.

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Hot

© Charles Bukowski

she was hot, she was so hot
I didn't want anybody else to have her,
and if I didn't get home on time
she'd be gone, and I couldn't bear that-

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For Jane: With All The Love I Had, Which Was Not Enough

© Charles Bukowski

I pick up the skirt,
I pick up the sparkling beads
in black,
this thing that moved once

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Prelude

© Richard Aldington

How could I love you more?
I would give up
Even that beauty I have loved too well
That I might love you better.

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Childhood

© Richard Aldington

How dull and greasy and grey and sordid it was!
On wet days -- it was always wet --
I used to kneel on a chair
And look at it from the window.

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Head of a White Woman Winking

© Edward Taylor

She has one good bumblebee
which she leads about town
on a leash of clover.
It's as big as a Saint Bernard

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Upon A Wasp Chilled With Cold

© Edward Taylor

The bear that breathes the northern blast
Did numb, torpedo-like, a wasp
Whose stiffened limbs encramped, lay bathing
In Sol's warm breath and shine as saving,

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Tegner's Drapa

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Heard a voice, that cried,
"Balder the Beautiful
Is dead, is dead!"
And through the misty air
Passed like the mournful cry
Of sunward sailing cranes.

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King Trisanku

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Viswamitra the Magician,
By his spells and incantations,
Up to Indra's realms elysian
Raised Trisanku, king of nations.

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The Son Of The Evening Star

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Can it be the sun descending
O'er the level plain of water?
Or the Red Swan floating, flying,
Wounded by the magic arrow,

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Hiawatha's Wooing

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"As unto the bow the cord is,
So unto the man is woman;
Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him, yet she follows;

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The Building of the Ship

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"Build me straight, O worthy Master!
Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel,
That shall laugh at all disaster,
And with wave and whirlwind wrestle!"