Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HYMN: SEPTUGESIMA SUNDAY, by REGINALD HEBER Poet's Biography First Line: The god of glory walks his round Last Line: And grant us grace to please thee here! Subject(s): God | ||||||||
THE God of Glory walks His round, From day to day, from year to year, And warns us each with awful sound, "No longer stand ye idle here! "Ye whose young cheeks are rosy bright, Whose hands are strong, whose hearts are clear, Waste not of hope the morning light! Ah fools! why stand ye idle here? "Oh, as the griefs ye would assuage That wait on life's declining year, Secure a blessing for your age, And work your Maker's business here! "And ye, whose locks of scanty grey Foretell your latest travail near, How swiftly fades your worthless day! And stand ye yet so idle here? "One hour remains, there is but one! But many a shriek and many a tear Through endless years the guilt must moan Of moments lost and wasted here!" O Thou, by all Thy works adored, To whom the sinner's soul is dear, Recall us to Thy vineyard, Lord! And grant us grace to please Thee here! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUNTAIN IS STRIPPED by DAVID IGNATOW AS CLOSE AS BREATHING by MARK JARMAN UNHOLY SONNET 1 by MARK JARMAN UNHOLY SONNET 13 by MARK JARMAN BIRTH-DUES by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE SILENT SHEPHERDS by ROBINSON JEFFERS GOING TO THE HORSE FLATS by ROBINSON JEFFERS EVENING HYMN by REGINALD HEBER |
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