Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE CHRISTIAN WOMAN, by PHOEBE CARY Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Oh! Beautiful as morning in those hours Last Line: Down to death's chamber, and his bridal-bed. Subject(s): Women; Christianity; Death | ||||||||
OH! beautiful as morning, in those hours When, as her pathway lies along the hills, Her golden fingers wake the dewy flowers, And softly touch the waters of the rills, Was she who walk'd more faintly day by day, Till silently she perish'd by the way. It was not hers to know that perfect heaven Of passionate love return'd by love as deep; Not hers to sing the cradle-song at even, Watching the beauty of her babe asleep; "Mother and brethren" -- these she had not known Save such as do the Father's will alone. Yet found she something still for which to live -- Hearths desolate, where angel-like she came, And "little ones," to whom her hand could give A cup of water in her Master's name; And breaking hearts to bind away from death With the soft hand of pitying love and faith. She never won the voice of popular praise, But, counting earthly triumph as but dross, Seeking to keep her Saviour's perfect ways, Bearing in the still path his blessed cross, She made her life, while with us here she trod, A consecration to the will of God! And she hath lived and labour'd not in vain; Through the deep prison cells her accents thrill And the sad slave leans idly on his chain, And hears the music of her singing still; While little children, with their innocent praise, Keep freshly in men's hearts her Christian ways. And what a beautiful lesson she made known, The whiteness of her soul sin could not dim; Ready to lay down on God's altar-stone The dearest treasure of her life for him. Her flame of sacrifice never, never waned, How could she live and die so self-sustain'd? For friends supported not her parting soul, And whisper'd words of comfort, kind and sweet, When treading onward to that final goal, Where the still bridegroom waited for her feet, Alone she walk'd, yet with a fearless tread, Down to Death's chamber, and his bridal-bed. | 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 HOW THE MIRROR LOOKS THIS MORNING by HICOK. BOB NOTE TO REALITY by TONY HOAGLAND A LEGEND OF THE NORTHLAND by PHOEBE CARY |
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