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Famous Short Religion Poems. Short Religion Poetry by Famous Poets

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

See also: Best Famous Short Poems | Short Member Poems | Best Short Member Poems | Top 100 Famous Short Poems

 
by Friedrich von Schiller

My Faith

 Which religion do I acknowledge? None that thou namest.
"None that I name? And why so?"--Why, for religion's own sake?


by Emily Dickinson

Ourselves we do inter with sweet derision.

 Ourselves we do inter with sweet derision.
The channel of the dust who once achieves
Invalidates the balm of that religion
That doubts as fervently as it believes.


by William Blake

The Book of Urizen: Preludium

 Of the primeval Priests assum'd power,
When Eternals spurn'd back his religion;
And gave him a place in the north,
Obscure, shadowy, void, solitary.

Eternals I hear your call gladly,
Dictate swift winged words, & fear not
To unfold your dark visions of torment.


by Robert Herrick

His Prayer To Ben Jonson

 When I a verse shall make,
Know I have pray'd thee,
For old religion's sake,
Saint Ben to aid me.

Make the way smooth for me,
When I, thy Herrick,
Honouring thee, on my knee
Offer my lyric.

Candles I'll give to thee,
And a new altar,
And thou, Saint Ben, shalt be
Writ in my psalter.


by Robert Burns

77. Epitaph on John Dove Innkeeper

 HERE lies Johnie Pigeon;
What was his religion?
 Whae’er desires to ken,
To some other warl’
Maun follow the carl,
 For here Johnie Pigeon had nane!


Strong ale was ablution,
Small beer persecution,
 A dram was memento mori;
But a full-flowing bowl
Was the saving his soul,
 And port was celestial glory.


by Philip Larkin

Water

 If I were called in
To construct a religion
I should make use of water.

Going to church
Would entail a fording
To dry, different clothes;

My liturgy would employ
Images of sousing,
A furious devout drench,

And I should raise in the east
A glass of water
Where any-angled light
Would congregate endlessly.


by Amy Lowell

Fragment

 What is poetry? Is it a mosaic
Of coloured stones which curiously are wrought
Into a pattern? Rather glass that's taught
By patient labor any hue to take
And glowing with a sumptuous splendor, make
Beauty a thing of awe; where sunbeams caught,
Transmuted fall in sheafs of rainbows fraught
With storied meaning for religion's sake.


by Amy Lowell

Fragment

 What is poetry? Is it a mosaic
Of coloured stones which curiously are wrought
Into a pattern? Rather glass that's taught
By patient labor any hue to take
And glowing with a sumptuous splendor, make
Beauty a thing of awe; where sunbeams caught,
Transmuted fall in sheafs of rainbows fraught
With storied meaning for religion's sake.


by Vachel Lindsay

Love and Law

 TRUE Love is founded in rocks of Remembrance 
In stones of Forbearance and mortar of pain. 
The workman lays wearily granite on granite, 
And bleeds for his castle, 'mid sunshine and rain. 

Love is not velvet, not all of it velvet, 
Not all of it banners, not gold-leaf alone. 
'Tis stern as the ages and old as Religion. 
With Patience its watchword and Law for its throne.