Classic and Contemporary Poetry
COWPER'S CONSOLATION, by PHOEBE CARY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: He knew what mortals know when tried Last Line: God took his own! Subject(s): Consolation; Cowper, William (1731-1800); Death; Poetry & Poets; Dead, The | ||||||||
HE knew what mortals know when tried By suffering's worst and last extreme; He knew the ecstacy allied To bliss supreme. Souls, hanging on his melody, Have caught his rapture of belief; The heart of all humanity Has felt his grief. In sweet compassion and in love Poets about his tomb have trod; And softly hung their wreaths above The hallowed sod. His hymns of victory, clear and strong, Over the hosts of sin and doubt, Still make the Christian's battle-song, And triumph-shout. Tasting sometimes his Father's grace, Yet for wise purposes allowed Seldom to see the "smiling face" Behind the cloud; Surely when he was left the prey Of torments only Heaven can still, "God moved in a mysterious way" To work his will. Yet many a soul through life has trod Untroubled o'er securest ground, Nor knew that "closer walk with God" His footsteps found. With its great load of grief to bear, The reed, though bruised, might not break; God did not leave him to despair, Nor quite forsake. The pillow by his tear-drops wet, The stoniest couch that heard his cries, Had near a golden ladder set That touched the skies. And at the morning on his bed, And in sweet visions of the night, Angels, descending, comforted His soul with light. Standing upon the hither side, How few of all the earthly host Have signaled those whose feet have trod The heavenly coast. Yet his it was at times to see, In glimpses faint and half-revealed, That strange and awful mystery By death concealed. And, as the glory thus discerned His heart desired, with strong desire; By seraphs touched, his sad lips burned With sacred fire. As ravens to Elijah bare, At morn and eve, the promised bread; So by the spirits of the air His soul was fed. And, even as the prophet rose Triumphant on the flames of love, The fiery chariot of his woes Bore him above. Oh, shed no tears for such a lot, Nor deem he passed uncheered, alone; He walked with God, and he was not, God took his own! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FRIEND KILLED IN THE WAR by ANTHONY HECHT FOR JAMES MERRILL: AN ADIEU by ANTHONY HECHT TARANTULA: OR THE DANCE OF DEATH by ANTHONY HECHT CHAMPS D?ÇÖHONNEUR by ERNEST HEMINGWAY NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND A LEGEND OF THE NORTHLAND by PHOEBE CARY |
|