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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

Sonnet 42: That thou hast her it is not all my grief

That thou hast her it is not all my grief, And yet it may be said I loved her dearly; That she hath thee is of my wailing chief, A loss in love that touches me more nearly.

Universal

William Shakespeare

121 words

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Poetry

The Old Man Dreams

OH for one hour of youthful joy! Give back my twentieth spring! I'd rather laugh, a bright-haired boy, Than reign, a gray-beard king. Off with the spoils of wrinkled age! Away with Learning's crown! Tear out life's Wisdom-written page, And dash its trophies down!

Universal

Oliver Wendell Holmes

213 words

Poetry

Evening Star

'Twas noontide of summer, And midtime of night, And stars, in their orbits, Shone pale, through the light Of the brighter, cold moon. 'Mid planets her slaves, Herself in the Heavens, Her beam on the waves.

Holy Sonnet XVIII: Show me, dear Christ, thy Spouse, so bright and clear

is it She, which on the other shore Goes richly painted? or which, robbed and tore, Laments and mourns in Germany and here? Sleeps she a thousand, then peeps up one year? Is she self-truth and errs? now new, now outwore?

Ode To Autumn

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; Conspiring with him how to load and bless With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees, And fill all fruit...

I know some lonely Houses off the Road

I know some lonely Houses off the Road A Robber'd like the look of -- Wooden barred, And Windows hanging low, Inviting to -- A...

Farewell and Defiance to Love

Love and thy vain employs, away From this too oft deluded breast! No longer will I court thy stay, To be my bosom's teazing guest. Thou treacherous medicine, reckoned pure, Thou quackery of the harassed heart, That kills what it...

Sorrow

To me this world's a dreary blank, All hopes in life are gone and fled, My high strung energies are sank, And all my blissful hopes lie dead.-- The world once smiling to my view, Showed scenes of endless bliss...

To Mr John Moore, Author of the Celebrated Worm-Powder.

How much, egregious Moore, are we Deceived by shows and forms! Whate'er we think, whate'er we see, All humankind are worms. Man is a very worm by birth, Vile reptile, weak and vain! A while he crawls upon the earth, Then shrinks to earth again.

Behold, As Goblins Dark Of Mien

BEHOLD, as goblins dark of mien And portly tyrants dyed with crime Change, in the transformation scene, At Christmas, in the pantomime, Instanter, at the...

Universal

Robert Louis Stevenson

116 words

Poetry

To Constantia: Stanzas 1 and 2

As restored by Mr.

Fill the Goblet Again. a Song

for I never before Felt the glow which now gladdens my heart to its core; Let us drink!--who would not?--since, through life's varied round, In the goblet alone no deception is found.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

261 words

Poetry

The Indian Serenade

I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright: I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Hath led me--who knows how?

Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever longing still

My love is as a fever longing still, For that which longer nurseth the disease; Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, The uncertain sickly appetite to please.

To the Author of a Sonnet

Thy verse is "sad" enough, no doubt: A devilish deal more sad than witty! Why we should weep I can't find out, Unless for _thee_ we weep in pity. Yet there is one I pity more; And much, alas!

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

109 words

Poetry

Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is

Love is too young to know what conscience is, Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?

Well! Thou Art Happy

thou art happy, and I feel That I should thus be happy too; For still my heart regards thy weal Warmly, as it was wont to do. Thy husband's blest--and 'twill impart Some pangs to view his happier lot: But let them pass--Oh!

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

240 words

Poetry

Of That High World

If that high world, which lies beyond Our own, surviving Love endears; If there the cherished heart be fond, The eye the same, except in tears-- How welcome those untrodden spheres! How sweet this very hour to die! To soar...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

106 words

Poetry

Sonnet 65: Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea, But sad mortality o'ersways their power, How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea, Whose action is no stronger than a flower?

How Soon Hath Time

How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, Stoln on his wing my three and twentieth year! My hasting days fly on wtih full...

The Moon

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall; She shines on thieves on the garden wall, On streets and fields and harbour...

Universal

Robert Louis Stevenson

Short94 words

Poetry

No, Thank You John

I never said I loved you, John: Why will you tease me day by day, And wax a weariness to think upon With always "do" and "pray"?

Braggart

With careful step to keep his balance up He reels on warily along the street, Slabbering at mouth and with a staggering stoop Mutters an angry look at all he meets.

A World for Love

Oh, the world is all too rude for thee, with much ado and care; Oh, this world is but a rude world, and hurts a thing so fair; Was there a nook in which the world had never been to...

Universal

John Clare

218 words