Victorian Poetry

Top 5 Poets for Contemplation

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After a solid day spent in the open air with hands deep in the dirt, what more could a hermit desire? This one simply craves a comfy armchair, a tall drink of something soothing, and a book of poetry. Few people have time for poetry today, it seems. Poetry – or good poetry, anyway – needs to be savoured. In an age of instant information and tangent searching, not many want to commit to a set number of words onRead more

Praise Overflowing

Kingfisher bird

“Pied Beauty” by Gerard Manley Hopkins: Glory be to God for dappled things – For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings; Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough; And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim. All things counter, original, spare, strange; Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:Read more

Weary in Well-Doing

Sad dog

“Weary in Well-Doing” by Christina Georgina Rossetti: I would have gone; God bade me stay: I would have worked; God bade me rest. He broke my will from day to day, He read my yearnings unexpressed And said them nay. Now I would stay; God bids me go: Now I would rest; God bids me work. He breaks my heart tossed to and fro, My soul is wrung with doubts that lurk And vex it so. I go, Lord, whereRead more

The soul’s longing

Old fashioned villa on a hill

“Heaven-Haven: A Nun takes the veil” by Gerard Manley Hopkins: I have desired to go where springs not fail, to fields where flies no sharp and sided hail, and a few lilies blow. And I have asked to be where no storms come, where the green swell is in the havens dumb, and out of the swing of the sea. A prayer O God, in the course of this busy life, give us times of refreshment and peace; and grantRead more

Knocking at Paradise

Antique door knocker

“Keep watch, because you do not know on what day your Lord will come.” – Matthew 24:42 “Advent” by Christina Georgina Rossetti: This Advent moon shines cold and clear, These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after year And still their flame is strong. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ we cry, Heart-sick with hope deferred: ‘No speaking signs are in the sky,’ Is still the watchman’s word. The Porter watches at the gate, The servants watch within;Read more