Loading...
Search, filter, and discover the perfect illustration for your sermon
Free to browse · Sign up free to unlock most illustrations · Premium ($9.95/mo) for the full library of 50,000+ illustrations
Sweetest of sweets, I thank you: when displeasure Did through my body wound my mind, You took me thence, and in your house of pleasure A dainty lodging me assigned.
In this belovéd marble view Above the works and thoughts of Man, What Nature _could_ but _would not_ do, And Beauty and Canova _can!_ Beyond Imagination's power, Beyond the Bard's defeated art, With Immortality her dower, Behold the _Helen_ of the heart.
My mother groaned, my father wept: Into the dangerous world I leapt, Helpless, naked, piping loud, Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my father's hands, Striving against my swaddling-bands, Bound and weary, I thought best To sulk upon my mother's breast.
ONCE fondly lov’d, and still remember’d dear, Sweet early object of my youthful vows, Accept this mark of friendship, warm, sincere, Friendship! ’tis all cold duty now allows.
Which is best? Heaven -- Or only Heaven to come With that old Codicil of Doubt? I cannot help esteem The "Bird within the Hand" Superior to the one The "Bush" may yield me Or may not Too late to choose again.
Forever honored by the Tree Whose Apple Winterworn Enticed to Breakfast from the Sky Two Gabriels Yestermorn. They registered in Nature's Book As Robins --...
thou secreted peace Or subterranean woe -- Is there no wandering route of grace That leads away from thee -- No circuit sage of all the course Descried by cunning Men To balk thee of thy sacred Prey -- Advancing to thy Den --
FROM THE GREEK. why soarest thou above that tomb? To what sublime and star-ypaven home Floatest thou?-- I am the image of swift Plato's spirit, Ascending heaven; Athens doth inherit His corpse below.
Where Roses would not dare to go, What Heart would risk the way -- And so I send my Crimson Scouts To sound the Enemy...
Come, thou awakener of the spirit's ocean, Zephyr, whom to thy cloud or cave No thought can trace! speed with thy gentle motion!
I've known a Heaven, like a Tent -- To wrap its shining Yards -- Pluck up its stakes, and disappear -- Without the sound of...
Success is counted sweetest By those who ne'er succeed. To comprehend a nectar Requires sorest need. Not one of all the purple Host Who took...
As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies As the Vulture teased Forces the Broods in lonely Valleys As the Tiger eased By but a Crumb...
One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory. Neither Patriarch nor Pussy I dissect the Play...
Bless God, he went as soldiers, His musket on his breast -- Grant God, he charge the bravest Of all the martial blest! Please God,...
Talk not to me of Summer Trees The foliage of the mind A Tabernacle is for Birds Of no corporeal kind And winds do go...
YOUR friendship much can make me blest, O why that bliss destroy! Why urge the only, one request You know I will deny! Your thought, if Love must harbour there, Conceal it in that thought; Nor cause me from my...
HARCOURT, AT THE CHURCH OF STANTON HARCOURT, IN OXFORDSHIRE, 1720. To this sad shrine, whoe'er thou art, draw near; Here lies the friend most loved, the son most dear: Who ne'er knew joy, but friendship might divide, Or gave his...
remember thee! Till Lethe quench life's burning stream Remorse and Shame shall cling to thee, And haunt thee like a feverish dream! Remember thee! Aye, doubt it not. Thy husband too shall think of thee: By neither shalt thou be...
IN the green and gallant Spring, Love and the lyre I thought to sing, And kisses sweet to give and take By the flowery hawthorn...
The "Origin of Love!"--Ah, why That cruel question ask of me, When thou mayst read in many an eye He starts to life on seeing thee?
On this long storm the Rainbow rose -- On this late Morn -- the Sun -- The clouds -- like listless Elephants -- Horizons --...
The Mountain sat upon the Plain In his tremendous Chair -- His observation omnifold, His inquest, everywhere -- The Seasons played around his knees Like...
WHAT matter the pangs of a husband and father, If his sorrows in exile be great or be small, So the Pharisee's glories around her she gather, And the saint patronises her "Charity Ball!" What matters--a heart which, though faulty,...