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Famous Short Prayer Poems

Famous Short Prayer Poems. Short Prayer Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Prayer short poems

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Prayer | Short Famous Poems and Poets

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by Robert Herrick

THE HEART

 In prayer the lips ne'er act the winning part
Without the sweet concurrence of the heart.


by Omar Khayyam

My heart is weary of hypocrisy,

My heart is weary of hypocrisy,
Cupbearer, bring some wine, I beg of thee!
This hooded cowl and prayer-mat pawn for wine,
Then will I boast me in security.


by Omar Khayyam

In reverent sort to mosque I wend my way,

In reverent sort to mosque I wend my way,
But, by great Allah, it is not to pray;
No! but to steal a prayer-mat! When 'tis worn,
I go again, another to purvey.


by Omar Khayyam

To prayer and fasting when my heart inclined,

To prayer and fasting when my heart inclined,
All my desire I surely hoped to find;
Alas! my purity is stained with wine,
My prayers are wasted like a breath of wind.


by Omar Khayyam

Again to tavern haunts do we repair,

Again to tavern haunts do we repair,
And say «Adieu» to the five hours of prayer;
Where'er we see a long-necked flask of wine,
We elongate our necks that wine to share.


by Omar Khayyam

Of mosque and prayer and fast preach not to me,

Of mosque and prayer and fast preach not to me,
Rather go drink, were it on charity!
Yea, drink, Khayyam, your dust will soon be made
A jug, or pitcher, or a cup, may be!


by Omar Khayyam

O comrades dear, when hither ye repair

O comrades dear, when hither ye repair
In times to come, communion sweet to share,
While the cupbearer pours your old Magh wine,
Call poor Khayyam to mind, and breathe a prayer.


by Omar Khayyam

They who of prayer-mats make such great display

They who of prayer-mats make such great display
Are fools to bear hypocrisy's hard sway;
Strange! under cover of this saintly show
They live like heathen, and their faith betray.


by Omar Khayyam

We make the wine-jar's lip our place of prayer,

We make the wine-jar's lip our place of prayer,
And drink in lessons of true manhood there,
And pass our lives in taverns, if perchance
The time mis-spent in mosques we may repair.


by Omar Khayyam

To the wine-house I saw the sage repair,

To the wine-house I saw the sage repair,
Bearing a wine-cup, and a mat for prayer;
I said, «O Shaikh, what does this conduct mean?»
Said he, «Go drink! the world is naught but air.»


by Omar Khayyam

Did no fair rose my paradise adorn,

Did no fair rose my paradise adorn,
I would make shift to deck it with a thorn;
And if I lacked my prayer-mats, beads, and Shaikh,
'Those Christian bells and stoles I would not scorn.


by Omar Khayyam

Hear now Khayyam's advice, and bear in mind,

Hear now Khayyam's advice, and bear in mind,
Consort with revellers, though they be maligned,
Cast down the gates of abstinence and prayer,
Yea, drink, and even rob, but, oh! be kind!


by Vachel Lindsay

A Prayer to All the Dead among Mine Own People

 Are these your presences, my clan from Heaven? 
Are these your hands upon my wounded soul? 
Mine own, mine own, blood of my blood be with me, 
Fly by my path till you have made me whole!


by Omar Khayyam

Pagodas, just as mosques, are homes of prayer,

Pagodas, just as mosques, are homes of prayer,
'Tis prayer that church-bells chime unto the air,
Yea, Church and Ka'ba, Rosary and Cross
Are all but divers tongues of world-wide prayer.


by Omar Khayyam

They go away, and none is seen returning,

They go away, and none is seen returning,
To teach that other world's recondite learning;
'Twill not be shown for dull mechanic prayers,
For prayer is naught without true heartfelt yearning.


by Omar Khayyam

Employ all thy efforts to be agreeable to drinkers,

Employ all thy efforts to be agreeable to drinkers,
and follow the good counsel of Khayyam. O friend!
demolish the bases of prayer and of fasting, drink wine,
steal if you will, but do good.


by Emily Dickinson

There comes an hour when begging stops

 There comes an hour when begging stops,
When the long interceding lips
Perceive their prayer is vain.
"Thou shalt not" is a kinder sword Than from a disappointing God "Disciple, call again.
"


by Omar Khayyam

Throw dust upon the vault of heaven and drink some

Throw dust upon the vault of heaven and drink some
wine; seek out the fair, for where see you a subject for
pardon, a subject for prayer, since, of all those who
have gone away, no one has returned?
336


by Emily Dickinson

Prayer is the little implement

 Prayer is the little implement
Through which Men reach
Where Presence -- is denied them.
They fling their Speech By means of it -- in God's Ear -- If then He hear -- This sums the Apparatus Comprised in Prayer --


by Omar Khayyam

It is the rim of the wine-jar which we have chosen for

It is the rim of the wine-jar which we have chosen for
our place of prayer; it is in making use of wine that we
are rendered worthy of the name of man; it is in the
tavern that we get back the time lost in the mosque.


by Omar Khayyam

Every day, at dawn, I go to the tavern. There I give

Every day, at dawn, I go to the tavern. There I give
myself to the company of kalendar hypocrites. O Thou,
who art the master of secrets most concealed, give me
faith, if Thou wishest me to apply myself to prayer.
357


by Omar Khayyam

Whoever has constancy will not renounce drinking wine,

Whoever has constancy will not renounce drinking wine,
for wine has within itself the virtue of the water of life.
If any one renounce it during the month of Ramazan, let
him at least abstain from engagement in prayer.


by Omar Khayyam

When I am dead, wash me with the juice of the vine;

When I am dead, wash me with the juice of the vine;
in place of prayer, sing above my tomb the praise of
the cup and the wine, and, if you would find me again
at the day of doom, seek me in the dust of the tavern
floor.


by Omar Khayyam

Came an old man from out the tavern drunk, his

Came an old man from out the tavern drunk, his
prayer-rug on his shoulders and a bowl of wine in
hand. I said to him: Aged man! what meaneth this?
He answered me: Drink wine, my friend, for this world
is naught but wind.


by Emily Dickinson

My nosegays are for Captives

 My nosegays are for Captives --
Dim -- expectant eyes,
Fingers denied the plucking,
Patient till Paradise.
To such, if they should whisper Of morning and the moor, They bear no other errand, And I, no other prayer.


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