Best Famous Transfiguration Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Transfiguration poems. This is a select list of the best famous Transfiguration poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Transfiguration poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of transfiguration poems.
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Written by
Louisa May Alcott |
Mysterious death! who in a single hour
Life's gold can so refine
And by thy art divine
Change mortal weakness to immortal power!
Bending beneath the weight of eighty years
Spent with the noble strife
of a victorious life
We watched her fading heavenward, through our tears.
But ere the sense of loss our hearts had wrung
A miracle was wrought;
And swift as happy thought
She lived again -- brave, beautiful, and young.
Age, pain, and sorrow dropped the veils they wore
And showed the tender eyes
Of angels in disguise,
Whose discipline so patiently she bore.
The past years brought their harvest rich and fair;
While memory and love,
Together, fondly wove
A golden garland for the silver hair.
How could we mourn like those who are bereft,
When every pang of grief
found balm for its relief
In counting up the treasures she had left?--
Faith that withstood the shocks of toil and time;
Hope that defied despair;
Patience that conquered care;
And loyalty, whose courage was sublime;
The great deep heart that was a home for all--
Just, eloquent, and strong
In protest against wrong;
Wide charity, that knew no sin, no fall;
The spartan spirit that made life so grand,
Mating poor daily needs
With high, heroic deeds,
That wrested happiness from Fate's hard hand.
We thought to weep, but sing for joy instead,
Full of the grateful peace
That follows her release;
For nothing but the weary dust lies dead.
Oh, noble woman! never more a queen
Than in the laying down
Of sceptre and of crown
To win a greater kingdom, yet unseen;
Teaching us how to seek the highest goal,
To earn the true success --
To live, to love, to bless --
And make death proud to take a royal soul.
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Written by
Edgar Lee Masters |
When Fort Sumter fell and the war came
I cried out in bitterness of soul:
"O glorious republic now no more!"
When they buried my soldier son
To the call of trumpets and the sound of drums
My heart broke beneath the weight
Of eighty years, and I cried:
"Oh, son who died in a cause unjust!
In the strife of Freedom slain!"
And I crept here under the grass.
And now from the battlements of time, behold:
Thrice thirty million souls being bound together
In the love of larger truth,
Rapt in the expectation of the birth
Of a new Beauty,
Sprung from Brotherhood and Wisdom.
I with eyes of spirit see the Transfiguration
Before you see it.
But ye infinite brood of golden eagles nesting ever higher,
Wheeling ever higher, the sun-light wooing
Of lofty places of Thought,
Forgive the blindness of the departed owl.
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Written by
Rg Gregory |
i take my property with me says the snail
slow-moving (yes) but packed with sublime thought
the house upon its back some kind of grail
vulnerable to brute boot - and wisdom bought
by barely making it through life’s dull crawl
the pace of it denies technology’s demand
that speed be safety (that getting there is all)
the snail enjoys being aeon’s ampersand
the snail goes round and round and comes out where
it is the king of spirals as life whirls by
the turning earth and snail leave nothing spare
as step by step the future gives the lie
to rushing dreams and blood’s inflated wants
it’s the crawling turn of life that plays the trumps
the snail’s the joke - the spiral wraps the taunts
(the linear hurls) back round itself – and dumps
vainglory pride ambition overweened
into the snail’s path as fodder to be gnashed
(transmutable to slime) and once more greened
(in time’s course) for hope to be re-stashed
as cosmos and the throbbing crumb of dirt
share each other’s suits and blindly will
a raw transfiguration to assert
what wasn’t is - then this the only skill
as plodding snail and spiralling through space
unite in common pattern (daily blent)
to tie truth down to gastropodic pace
and who goes faster loses what is meant
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Written by
Robert Herrick |
Immortal clothing I put on
So soon as, Julia, I am gone
To mine eternal mansion.
Thou, thou art here, to human sight
Clothed all with incorrupted light;
--But yet how more admir'dly bright
Wilt thou appear, when thou art set
In thy refulgent thronelet,
That shin'st thus in thy counterfeit!
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