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Home›Traditions›Anglican

Anglican Illustrations

Scripture, Tradition, and Reason — the "three-legged stool" — seeking the via media.

Key question: “How do we faithfully interpret this text using the wisdom of Scripture, Church tradition, and God-given Reason?”

24,038 sermon illustrations through the Anglican lens

Poetry

Chaucer.

IMITATIONS OF ENGLISH POETS Women ben full of ragerie, Yet swinken nat sans secresie. Thilke moral shall ye understond, From schoole-boy's tale of fayre Irelond: Which to the fennes hath him betake, To filche the gray ducke fro the lake.

Universal

Alexander Pope

150 words

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Poetry

Sonnet 43: When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see

When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see, For all the day they view things unrespected; But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee, And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.

Universal

William Shakespeare

113 words

Poetry

Lucifer in Starlight

On a starred night Prince Lucifer uprose. Tired of his dark dominion swung the fiend Above the rolling ball in cloud part screened, Where sinners hugged their spectre of repose. Poor prey to his hot fit of pride were those.

The Revenge of Rain-in-the-Face

In that desolate land and lone, Where the Big Horn and Yellowstone Roar down their mountain path, By their fires the Sioux Chiefs Muttered their woes and griefs And the menace of their wrath.

Universal

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

218 words

Poetry

THE EVENING STAR

in the painted oriel of the West, Whose panes the sunken sun incarnadines, Like a fair lady at her casement, shines The evening star, the star of love and rest!

Universal

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Short92 words

Poetry

Holy Sonnet I: Tho Has Made Me

Tho has made me, and shall thy work decay? Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste; I run to death, and death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday.

Sonnet 86: Was it the proud full sail of his great verse

Was it the proud full sail of his great verse, Bound for the prize of all too precious you, That did my ripe thoughts in my brain inhearse, Making their tomb the womb wherein they grew?

When I was small, a Woman died --

When I was small, a Woman died -- Today -- her Only Boy Went up from the Potomac -- His face all Victory To look...

To Anne

Oh, Anne, your offences to me have been grievous: I thought from my wrath no atonement could save you; But Woman is made to command and deceive us-- I look'd in your face, and I almost forgave you.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

138 words

Poetry

Sonnet 58: That god forbid, that made me first your slave

That god forbid, that made me first your slave, I should in thought control your times of pleasure, Or at your hand the account of hours to crave, Being your vassal, bound to stay your leisure!

The Height of the Ridiculous

I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit, in the general...

Universal

Oliver Wendell Holmes

162 words

Poetry

Of a Lady Singing to Her Lute.

IMMITATION OF ENGLISH POETS. WALLER Fair charmer, cease! nor make your voice's prize, A heart resign'd, the conquest of your eyes: Well might, alas! that threaten'd vessel fail, Which winds and lightning both at once assail.

When I hoped, I recollect

When I hoped, I recollect Just the place I stood -- At a Window facing West -- Roughest Air -- was good -- Not a...

Better -- than Music! For I -- who heard it --

Better -- than Music! For I -- who heard it -- I was used -- to the Birds -- before -- This -- was different...

To Lesbia!

since far from you I've rang'd, Our souls with fond affection glow not; You say, 'tis I, not you, have chang'd, I'd tell you why,--but yet I know not. Your polish'd brow no cares have crost; And Lesbia!

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

249 words

Poetry

Gipsies

The snow falls deep; the forest lies alone; The boy goes hasty for his load of brakes, Then thinks upon the fire and hurries back; The gipsy knocks his hands and tucks them up, And seeks his squalid camp, half...

Stanzas to the Po

River, that rollest by the ancient walls, Where dwells the Lady of my love, when she Walks by thy brink, and there perchance recalls A faint and fleeting memory of me: What if thy deep and ample stream should be...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

430 words

Poetry

The Soldier

Why do we all, seeing of a soldier, bless him? bless Our redcoats, our tars? Both these being, the greater part, But frail clay, nay but foul clay.

Universal

Gerard Manley Hopkins

139 words

Poetry

Spear Thistle

Where the broad sheepwalk bare and brown [Yields] scant grass pining after showers, And winds go fanning up and down The little strawy bents and nodding flowers, There the huge thistle, spurred with many thorns, The suncrackt upland's russet swells adorns.

Translation From Anacreon. Ode

Mingle with the genial bowl The Rose, the 'flow'ret' of the Soul, The Rose and Grape together quaff'd, How doubly sweet will be the draught! With Roses crown our jovial brows, While every cheek with Laughter glows; While Smiles and...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

133 words

Poetry

Wild Bees

These children of the sun which summer brings As pastoral minstrels in her merry train Pipe rustic ballads upon busy wings And glad the cotters' quiet toils again.

Holy Sonnet XII: Why Are We By All Creatures Waited On?

Why are we by all creatures waited on? Why do the prodigal elements supply Life and food to me, being more pure than I, Simple, and further from corruption? Why brook'st thou, ignorant horse, subjection?

O Star of France.

1 O STAR of France! The brightness of thy hope and strength and fame, Like some proud ship that led the fleet so long, Beseems to-day a wreck, driven by the gale—a mastless hulk; And ’mid its teeming, madden’d, half-drown’d crowds, Nor helm nor helmsman.

Sport in the Meadows

Maytime is to the meadows coming in, And cowslip peeps have gotten eer so big, And water blobs and all their golden kin Crowd round the shallows by the striding brig.

Universal

John Clare

422 words