BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors
Short Stories
Long Stories
Funny Stories
Love Stories
Stories For Kids
Poems
Essays
Nonfictions
Plays
Folktales
Fairy Tales
Fables
Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Home
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Post by :Pontificator
Category :Poems
Author :Charles Kingsley
Date :March 2011
Read :2625
Click below to download : Down To The Mothers (Format : PDF)
Down To The Mothers
Linger no more, my beloved, by abbey and cell and cathedral;Mourn not for holy ones mourning of old them who knew not the Father,
Weeping with fast and scourge, when the bridegroom was taken from them.
Drop back awhile through the years, to the warm rich youth of the nations,
Childlike in virtue and faith, though childlike in passion and pleasure,
Childlike still, and still near to their God, while the day-spring of Eden
Lingered in rose-red rays on the peaks of Ionian mountains.
Down to the mothers, as Faust went, I go, to the roots of our manhood,
Mothers of us in our cradles; of us once more in our glory.
New-born, body and soul, in the great pure world which shall be
In the renewing of all things, when man shall return to his Eden
Conquering evil, and death, and shame, and the slander of conscience--
Free in the sunshine of Godhead--and fearlessly smile on his Father.
Down to the mothers I go--yet with thee still!--be with me, thou purest!
Lead me, thy hand in my hand; and the dayspring of God go before us.
Eversley, 1852.
(The end)
Charles Kingsley's poem: Down To The Mothers
NEXT BOOKS
The single eye, the daughter of the light;Well pleased to recognise in lowliest shadeSome glimmer of its parent beam, and madeBy daily draughts of brightness, inly bright.The taste severe, yet graceful, trained arightIn classic depth and clearness, and repaidBy thanks and honour from the wise and staid--By pleasant skill to blame, and yet delight,And high communion with the eloquent throngOf those who purified our speech and song--All these are yours. The same examples lure,You in each woodland, me on breezy moor--With kindred aim the same sweet path along,To knit in loving knowledge rich and poor.Eversley, 1853.(The end)Charles Kingsley's poem: To
To Miss Mitford: Authoress Of 'our Village'
PREVIOUS BOOKS
On the Death of a Certain Journal {A}So die, thou child of stormy dawn,Thou winter flower, forlorn of nurse;Chilled early by the bigot's curse,The pedant's frown, the worldling's yawn.Fair death, to fall in teeming June,When every seed which drops to earthTakes root, and wins a second birthFrom steaming shower and gleaming moon.Fall warm, fall fast, thou mellow rain;Thou rain of God, make fat the land;That roots which parch in burning sandMay bud to flower and fruit again.To grace, perchance, a fairer mornIn mightier lands beyond the sea,While honour falls to such as weFrom hearts of heroes yet unborn,Who in the light
On The Death Of A Certain Journal
LEAVE A COMMENT