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The Soul's Ascension Post by :Margaret_Berman Category :Poems Author :Edward Doyle Date :July 2011 Read :1323

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The Soul's Ascension

Not mine the night that creeps beneath Life's sea,
Or lurks within Hope's ruins, sunk below
The desert, or the stagnant pool--oh, no!
But night that mounts the heavens, till it is free
Where stars, prefiguring all things that be
Obscure on earth, catch sight of God and glow,
And golden shadows large and larger grow,
Cast by Gift-bearers to Humanity.

Oh, once the cold of all the unsunn'd space
Was in my reptile life of soul, wing-bound;
But now, soul-free, what warmth from stars all round!
'Tis not by strength of mine, Lord, but thy grace,
My soul soars from the depths of sea, or ground,
Till, at star-heights, it meets Thee, face to face!

(The end)
Edward Doyle's poem: Soul's Ascension

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Lyric Transport Lyric Transport

Lyric Transport
What but the spirit's ladder to God's throne Is beauty? Oh, from rung to rung to climb, Till faint becomes the azure's anthem chime Of planets, multitudinous, or lone, And Inspiration, drunk with fragrance, blown From God's rare, inmost garden, wall'd from Time, Sets free the Sonnet with is wings of rhyme To carry down the transport, upward known! Mine is no swaying ladder, like he sea's, Whose rounds of rollers, raised

What The Poets Show What The Poets Show

What The Poets Show
When, at God's fiat, Light flashed forth, the beam Evolved a million pigments, as it sped To every nature. Now, of all its spread, What shaft so glorious as the poet's dream Which, mote and mass, reflects the Will Supreme That life is progress, and by flight, or tread, It circles God-ward up, till perfected! For, harboring meaner thought were to blaspheme. What, if the world be chaos where it sins, Race