Prayer for Peace, and Other Poems

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M. Kennerley, 1915 - 113 pagina's
 

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Pagina 45 - The intellectual love of the mind towards God is the very " love with which He loves Himself, not in so far as He is infinite, but in so far as He can be manifested through the essence of the human mind...
Pagina 3 - And there was perfect peace . . . But I awoke, wroth with high God and prayer. I prayed for peace; God, answering my prayer, Bowed the free neck beneath a yoke of steel, Dumbed the free voice that springs in lyric speech, Killed the free art that glows on all mankind, And made one iron nation lord of earth, Which in the monstrous matrix of its will Moulded a spawn of slaves. There was One MightAnd there was perfect peace . . . But I awoke, wroth with high God and prayer.
Pagina 5 - Till flesh was all, flesh wallowing, styed in fear, In festering fear that stank beyond the stars — And there was perfect peace . . . But I awoke, wroth with high God and prayer. I prayed for peace; God, answering my prayer, Spake very softly of forgotten things, Spake very softly old remembered words Sweet as young starlight. Rose to heaven again The mystic challenge of the Nazarene, That deathless affirmation: — Man in God And God in man willing the God to be ... And there was war and peace,...
Pagina 5 - The soul of man in God and God in man. For death is nothing in the sum of things, And life is nothing in the sum of things, And flesh is nothing in the sum of things, But man in God is all and God in man, Will merged in will, love immanent in love, Moving through visioned vistas to one goal — The goal of man in God and God in man, And of all life in God and God in life — The far fruition of our earthly prayer, "Thy will be done!
Pagina 3 - ... these were visions in the night of war: I prayed for peace ; God, answering my prayer, Sent down a grievous plague on humankind, A black and tumorous plague that softly slew Till nations and their armies were no more — And there was perfect peace . . . But I awoke, wroth with high God and prayer. I prayed for peace; God, answering my prayer, Decreed the Truce of Life : — Wings in the sky Fluttered and fell ; the quick, bright ocean things Sank to the ooze; the footprints in the woods Vanished;...
Pagina 95 - Lapidary ! Labor still ; Polish the lifeless, primal granite clean, Till, mirrored true, shines, from its heart serene The undistorted image of Thy will. And then ? — Wouldst Thou Thyself be still the same? Would God be God if lacking even me ? — Nay ! Here I shout my challenge into space : Thou dar'st not lose, fronting Time's lonely face, One monad cell that thrills its life to Thee, One gem of love that sparkles back Thy flame ! William Samuel Johnson. LAFCADIO HEARN. THE MEETING OF THREE...
Pagina 13 - And each is worship only — The marble pants with art's immortal breath; Ascetic vision hunger-dreams to death; The clutching talon and the rending claw Act the red ritual of evolving law: And each is worship only — I see the chestnut glaze its winter bud, Atom slay atom in the fevered blood, An earthworm draw a leaf beneath the sod, A poet love his failure up to God: And each is worship only...
Pagina 4 - ... But I awoke, wroth with high God and prayer. I prayed for peace; God, answering my prayer, Palsied all flesh with bitter fear of death. The shuddering slayers fled to town and field Beset with carrion visions, foul decay, And sickening taints of air that made the earth One charnel of the shrivelled lines of war. And through all flesh that omnipresent fear Became the strangling fingers of a hand That choked aspiring thought and brave belief And love of loveliness and selfless deed Till flesh was...
Pagina 14 - And each is worship only — And millions, throbbing with the throbbing drum, Hear the Great Call; and millions yet to come Shall follow by the charnel road of strife Through hate to love, through passionate death to life: And this is worship only . . . Fume, great alembic, fume!
Pagina 65 - Dead below nor the Wonders above Can make you one with me: For the Woman looks seaward and dreams apart (Though I call her mine on the Beacon Hill) And her dreams are the dreams of the Sea's deep heart — My Love is a stranger still!

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