Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY: 2, by REGINALD HEBER



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

HYMN: FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY: 2, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The feeble pulse, the gasping breath
Last Line: Nor give to hell the victory!
Subject(s): Victory


THE feeble pulse, the gasping breath,
The clenched teeth, the glazed eye,
Are these thy sting, thou dreadful death?
O grave, are these thy victory!

The mourners by our parting bed,
The wife, the children weeping nigh,
The dismal pageant of the dead, --
These, these are not thy victory!

But from the much-loved world to part,
Our lust untamed, our spirit high,
All nature struggling at the heart,
Which, dying, feels it dare not die!

To dream through life a gaudy dream
Of pride and pomp and luxury,
Till waken'd by the nearer gleam
Of burning boundless agony;

To meet o'er-soon our angry King,
Whose love we pass'd unheeded by;
Lo this, O death, thy deadliest sting!
O grave, and this thy victory!

O Searcher of the secret heart,
Who deign'd for sinful man to die!
Restore us ere the spirit part,
Nor give to hell the victory!





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