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Home›Traditions›Charismatic

Charismatic Illustrations

The present-day operation of all spiritual gifts and the experiential dimension of the Holy Spirit.

Key question: “How is the Holy Spirit actively manifesting His power and gifts in the church today?”

23,580 sermon illustrations through the Charismatic lens

Poetry

To R. B.

The fine delight that fathers thought; the strong Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe flame, Breathes once and, quenched faster than it came, Leaves yet the mind a mother of immortal song.

Universal

Gerard Manley Hopkins

111 words

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Poetry

The Furl of Fresh-Leaved Dogrose Down

The furl of fresh-leaved dogrose down His cheeks the forth-and-flaunting sun Had swarthed about with lion-brown Before the Spring was done. His locks like all...

Universal

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Short95 words

Poetry

419. Bonie Jean: A Ballad

THERE was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk or market to be seen; When a’ our fairest maids were met, The fairest maid was bonie Jean.

Sonnet 67: Ah! wherefore with infection should he live

wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace itself with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steel dead seeming of his living hue?

311. On the Birth of a Posthumous Child

SWEET flow’ret, pledge o’ meikle love, And ward o’ mony a prayer, What heart o’ stane wad thou na move, Sae helpless, sweet, and fair? November hirples o’er the lea, Chill, on thy lovely form: And gane, alas! the shelt’ring...

One Struggle More, and I Am Free

One struggle more, and I am free From pangs that rend my heart in twain; One last long sigh to Love and thee, Then back...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

368 words

Poetry

The Dumb Soldier

When the grass was closely mown, Walking on the lawn alone, In the turf a hole I found And hid a soldier underground. Spring and daisies came apace; Grasses hid my hiding-place; Grasses run like a green sea O'er the lawn up to my knee.

Universal

Robert Louis Stevenson

177 words

Poetry

Unnamed Lands.

NATIONS ten thousand years before These States, and many times ten thousand years before These States; Garner’d clusters of ages, that men and women like us grew up and travel’d their course, and pass’d on; What vast-built cities—what orderly republics—what...

203. Sylvander to Clarinda

WHEN dear Clarinda, 1 matchless fair, First struck Sylvander’s raptur’d view, He gaz’d, he listened to despair, Alas! ’twas all he dared to do. Love, from Clarinda’s heavenly eyes, Transfixed his bosom thro’ and thro’; But still in Friendships’ guarded...

Spring Carol

WHEN loud by landside streamlets gush, And clear in the greenwood quires the thrush, With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me The gift of the tongues of the lea, The gift of the tongues of meadows.

Universal

Robert Louis Stevenson

141 words

Poetry

The Soldier

Home furthest off grows dearer from the way; And when the army in the Indias lay Friends' letters coming from his native place Were like old neighbours with their country face.

To One In Paradise

Thou wast that all to me, love, For which my soul did pine-- A green isle in the sea, love, A fountain and a shrine, All wreathed with fairy fruits and flowers, And all the flowers were mine. Ah, dream too bright to last!

"All Is Vanity, Saith the Preacher"

Fame, Wisdom, Love, and Power were mine, And Health and Youth possessed me; My goblets blushed from every vine, And lovely forms caressed me; I sunned my heart in Beauty's eyes, And felt my soul grow tender; All Earth can...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

244 words

Poetry

To Homer

Standing aloof in giant ignorance, Of thee I hear and of the Cyclades, As one who sits ashore and longs perchance To visit dolphin-coral in deep seas.

Sonnet 73: That time of year thou mayst in me behold

That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

Sonnet to Byron

If I esteemed you less, Envy would kill Pleasure, and leave to Wonder and Despair The ministration of the thoughts that fill The mind which, like a worm whose life may share A portion of the unapproachable, Marks your creations...

The Summer Rain

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read, 'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large Down in the meadow, where is richer feed, And will not mind to hit their proper targe.

On Finding a Fan

In one who felt as once he felt, This might, perhaps, have fann'd the flame; But now his heart no more will melt, Because that heart is not the same.

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

124 words

Poetry

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

Ploughman Singing

Here morning in the ploughman's songs is met Ere yet one footstep shows in all the sky, And twilight in the east, a doubt as yet, Shows not her sleeve of grey to know her bye.

My Prayers Must Meet a Brazen Heaven

My prayers must meet a brazen heaven And fail and scatter all away. Unclean and seeming unforgiven My prayers I scarcely call to pray. I...

Universal

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Short88 words

Poetry

Holy Sonnet III: O Might Those Sighs And Tears Return Again

O might those sighs and tears return again Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent, That I might in this holy discontent Mourn with some fruit, as I have mourned in vain; In mine Idolatry what showers of rain Mine eyes did waste!

Sonnet 131: Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art

Thou art as tyrannous, so as thou art, As those whose beauties proudly make them cruel; For well thou know'st to my dear doting heart Thou art the fairest and most precious jewel.

Written After Swimming From Sestos to Abydos

If, in the month of dark December, Leander, who was nightly wont (What maid will not the tale remember?) To cross thy stream, broad Hellespont! If, when the wintry tempest roared, He sped to Hero, nothing loth, And thus of...

Universal

George Gordon, Lord Byron

132 words