Easter Wings
Lord, who createdst man in wealth and store,
Though foolishly he lost the same,
Decaying more and more,
Till he became
Most poor:
With thee
O let me rise
As larks, harmoniously,
And sing this day thy victories:
Then shall the fall further the flight in me.
My tender age in sorrow did begin:
And still with sicknesses and shame
Thou didst so punish sin,
That I became
Most thin.
With thee
Let me combine
And feel this day thy victory:
For, if I imp my wing on thine,
Affliction shall advance the flight in me.
Poem by
George Herbert
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by George Herbert
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Easter Wings
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Easter Wings here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.