WHEN first God stirr'd me, and the Church's word Came as a theme of reverent search and fear, It little cost to own the lustre clear Of truths she taught, of rite and rule she stored; For conscience craved, and reason did accord. Yet one there was that wore a mien austere, And I did doubt, and, startled, ask'd to hear Whose mouth had force to edge so sharp a sword My mother oped her trust, the holy Book; And heal'd my pang. She pointed, and I found Christ on Himself, considerate Master, took The utterance of that doctrine's fearful sound. The Fount of Love His servants sends to tell Love's deeds; Himself reveals the sinner's hell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MODERN MAJOR-GENERAL, FR. THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE by WILLIAM SCHWENCK GILBERT TOUJOURS AMOUR by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN THE FROGS: AN 'AESCHYLEAN' CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES A SONNET. PLATONIC LOVE by PHILIP AYRES ETERNAL BEAUTY by GRACE EVELYN BROWN AMOUR by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) EPILOGUE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROW by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |