Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, WRITTEN ON A SUNDAY MORNING, by ROBERT SOUTHEY



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WRITTEN ON A SUNDAY MORNING, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Go thou and seek the house of prayer!
Last Line: And ponders on the world to come.
Subject(s): Churches; God; Nature - Religious Aspects; Presence; Religion; Cathedrals; Theology


GO thou and seek the house of prayer!
I to the woodlands wend, and there
In lovely nature see the God of love.
The swelling organ's peal
Wakes not my soul to zeal,
Like the wild music of the wind-swept grove.
The gorgeous altar and the mystic vest
Rouse not such ardour in my breast,
As where the noon-tide beam
Flashed from the broken stream,
Quick vibrates on the dazzled sight;
Or where the cloud-suspended rain
Sweeps in shadows o'er the plain;
Or when reclining on the cliff's huge height
I mark the billows burst in silver light.
Go thou and seek the house of prayer!
I to the woodlands shall repair,
Feed with all nature's charms mine eyes,
And hear all nature's melodies.
The primrose bank shall there dispense
Faint fragrance to the awakened sense;
The morning beams that life and joy impart,
Shall with their influence warm my heart,
And the full tear that down my cheek will steal,
Shall speak the prayer of praise I feel!

Go thou and seek the house of prayer!
I to the woodlands bend my way,
And meet religion there.
She needs not haunt the high-arched dome to pray
Where storied windows dim the doubtful day:
With liberty she loves to rove,
Wide o'er the heathy hill or cowslipt dale;
Or seek the shelter of the embowering grove,
Or with the streamlet wind along the vale.
Sweet are these scenes to her; and when the night
Pours in the north her silver streams of light,
She woos reflection in the silent gloom,
And ponders on the world to come.





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