MY hope and heart is with thee -- thou wilt be A latter Luther, and a soldier-priest To scare church-harpies from the master's feast; Our dusted velvets have much need of thee: Thou art no Sabbath-drawler of old saws, Distill'd from some worm-canker'd homily; But spurr'd at heart with fieriest energy To embattail and to wall about thy cause With iron-worded proof, hating to hark The humming of the drowsy pulpit-drone Half God's good Sabbath, while the worn-out clerk Brow-beats his desk below. Thou from a throne Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark Arrows of lightnings. I will stand and mark. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SERVICE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO-MORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A THOUGHT SUGGESTED BY A VIEW, OF SADDLEBACK IN CUMBERLAND by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE FORGOTTEN GRAVE by EMILY DICKINSON ON THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST by WILLIAM DUNBAR LINES WRITTEN ... ONE WHO HAD WATCHED .. AMERICAN & FRENCH REVOLUTIONS by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES WINTER BURIAL by HENRY BELLAMANN |