Religion poems

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Communism and Imperialism

© Allama Muhammad Iqbal

The soul of both of them is impatient and restless,


Both of them know not God, and deceive mankind.

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His Prayer To Ben Jonson

© Robert Herrick

When I a verse shall make,
Know I have pray'd thee,
For old religion's sake,
Saint Ben to aid me.

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A Poem, Addressed to the Lord Privy Seal, on the Prospect of Peace

© Thomas Tickell

To The Lord Privy SealContending kings, and fields of death, too long,Have been the subject of the British song

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The Secret

© Studdert Kennedy Geoffrey Anketell

You were askin' 'ow we sticks it, Sticks this blarsted rain and mud,'Ow it is we keeps on smilin' When the place runs red wi' blood

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My Amoeba Is Unaware

© Scott Francis Reginald

of this poem in its favour, though it sharesin my totality

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When I am Old --

© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

When I am old and drenched in worlds of sadness, And wear a lacy cap upon my head;When, looking past the future's singing gladness, I linger, wistful, in the years long dead

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Flight into Reality

© Rowley Rosemarie

Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury

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A Satire, in Imitation of the Third of Juvenal

© John Oldham

Though much concern'd to leave my dear old friend,I must however his design commendOf fixing in the country: for were IAs free to choose my residence, as he;The Peak, the Fens, the Hundreds, or Land's End,I would prefer to Fleet Street, or the Strand

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Song for a Fishing Party near Burlington, on the Delaware, in 1776

© Odell Jonathan

How sweet is the season, the sky how serene;On Delaware's banks how delightful the scene;The Prince of the Rivers, his waves all asleep,In silence majestic glides on to the Deep.

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The Erotic Civilization

© Moritz Albert Frank

The infinite erotic civilization we createdis declining now. Breast and penis wag in publicas in primitive times, when nothing was erotic but the gods,

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We Live in a Rickety House

© McLachlan Alexander

We live in a rickety house, In a dirty dismal street,Where the naked hide from day, And thieves and drunkards meet.

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The Vanity of Human Wishes

© Samuel Johnson

Let observation with extensive view,

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Flint and Feather

© Emily Pauline Johnson

Ojistoh1.2Of him whose name breathes bravery and life1.3And courage to the tribe that calls him chief.1.4I am Ojistoh, his white star, and he1.5Is land, and lake, and sky--and soul to me.

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Jim Bludso, of the Praire Belle

© John Hay

Wall, no! I can't tell whar he lives, Becase he don't live, you see;Leastways, he's got out of the habit Of livin' like you and me

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An Evening Contemplation in a College

© Duncombe John

The Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates,With jarring sound the porter turns the key,Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,And slowly, sternly quits it -- tho' for me.