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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

The Marriage of Heaven and Hell: The Argument

Rintrah roars and shakes his fires in the burden'd air, Hungry clouds swag on the deep. Once meek, and in a perilous path The just man kept his course along The Vale of Death. Roses are planted where thorns grow,...

Universal

William Blake

110 words

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Poetry

The Jewish Cemetery at Newport

How strange it seems! These Hebrews in their graves, Close by the street of this fair seaport town, Silent beside the never-silent waves, At rest in all this moving up and down!

Universal

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

393 words

Poetry

The Reaper and the Flowers

There is a Reaper, whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between. "Shall I have naught that is fair?" saith he; "Have naught but the bearded grain?

Universal

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

159 words

Poetry

I Am

I AM: yet what I am none cares or knows, My friends forsake me like a memory lost; I am the self-consumer of my woes,...

The Future Peace and Glory of the Church

(Isaiah, ix. 15-20) Hear what God the Lord hath spoken, "O my people, faint and few, Comfortless, afflicted, broken, Fair abodes I build for you. Thorns of heartfelt tribulation Shall no more perplex your ways; You shall name your walls,...

In Youth I Have Known One

_How often we forget all time, when lone Admiring Nature's universal throne; Her woods--her wilds--her mountains--the intense Reply of Hers to Our intelligence!_ In youth I have known one with whom the Earth In secret communing held--as he with it,...

Badger

When midnight comes a host of dogs and men Go out and track the badger to his den, And put a sack within the hole, and lie Till the old grunting badger passes bye. He comes and hears--they let the strongest loose.

The Tower of Famine

Amid the desolation of a city, Which was the cradle, and is now the grave Of an extinguished people,--so that Pity Weeps o'er the shipwrecks of Oblivion's wave, There stands the Tower of Famine.

The Cornelian

No specious splendour of this stone Endears it to my memory ever; With lustre _only once_ it shone, And blushes modest as the giver.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

181 words

Poetry

Sonnet 63: Against my love shall be as I am now

Against my love shall be as I am now, With Time's injurious hand crush'd and o'erworn; When hours have drain'd his blood and fill'd his brow With lines and wrinkles; when his youthful morn Hath travell'd on to age's steepy...

To a Lady Who Presented the Author With the Velvet Band Which Bound Her Tresses

This Band, which bound thy yellow hair Is mine, sweet girl! thy pledge of love; It claims my warmest, dearest care, Like relics left of saints above.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

113 words

Poetry

Now is Past

Now_ is past--the happynow When we together roved Beneath the wildwood's oak-tree bough And Nature said we loved. Winter's blast Thenow_ since then has crept between, And left us both apart. Winters that withered all the green Have froze the beating heart.

Farm Breakfast

Maids shout to breakfast in a merry strife, And the cat runs to hear the whetted knife, And dogs are ever in the way to watch The mouldy crust and falling bone to catch.

Stanzas to Augusta

Though the day of my Destiny's over, And the star of my Fate hath declined, Thy soft heart refused to discover The faults which so many could find; Though thy Soul with my grief was acquainted, It shrunk not to...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

358 words

Poetry

My Heart's in the Highlands

FAREWELL to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.

Ode On The Spring

where the rosy-bosomed Hours, Fair Venus' train, appear, Disclose the long-expecting flowers, And wake the purple year! The Attic warbler pours her throat, Responsive to the cuckoo's note, The untaught harmony of spring: While, whisp'ring pleasure as they fly, Cool...

Sonnet 34 - With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee

With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee As those, when thou shalt call me by my name— Lo, the vain promise! is the same, the same, Perplexed and ruffled by life's strategy?

Universal

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

108 words

Poetry

To The Willow-Tree

Thou art to all lost love the best, The only true plant found, Wherewith young men and maids distrest And left of love, are crown'd. When once the lover's rose is dead Or laid aside forlorn, Then willow-garlands, 'bout the...

Thee, God, I Come From

Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty...

Universal

Gerard Manley Hopkins

122 words

Poetry

A Boston Ballad, 1854.

TO get betimes in Boston town, I rose this morning early; Here’s a good place at the corner—I must stand and see the show. Clear the way there, Jonathan! Way for the President’s marshal! Way for the government cannon! Way...

Thou Art Not False, but Thou Art Fickle

Thou art not false, but thou art fickle, To those thyself so fondly sought; The tears that thou hast forced to trickle Are doubly bitter...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

160 words

Poetry

Scandal

She hastens out and scarcely pins her clothes To hear the news and tell the news she knows; She talks of sluts, marks each unmended gown, Her self the dirtiest slut in all the town.

The New Vicar of Bray

DO you know Doctor Nott? With "a crook in his lot," Who seven years since tried to dish up A neat Codi_cil_ To the Princess's Will, Which made Dr. Nott _not_ a bishop.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

457 words

Poetry

438. Impromptu on Mrs. Riddell’s Birthday

OLD Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferred: “What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe?

Universal

Robert Burns

Short88 words