Quotes about chapel, page 15
Ode to Pity
1
Ever musing I delight to tread
The Paths of honour and the Myrtle Grove
Whilst the pale Moon her beams doth shed
On disappointed Love.
While Philomel on airy hawthorn Bush
Sings sweet and Melancholy, And the thrush
Converses with the Dove.
2
Gently brawling down the turnpike road,
Sweetly noisy falls the Silent Stream--
The Moon emerges from behind a Cloud
And darts upon the Myrtle Grove her beam.
Ah! then what Lovely Scenes appear,
The hut, the Cot, the Grot, and Chapel queer,
And eke the Abbey too a mouldering heap,
Cnceal'd by aged pines her head doth rear
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poem by Jane Austen
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St. John's, Cambridge
I stand beneath the tree, whose branches shade
Thy western window, Chapel of St. John!
And hear its leaves repeat their benison
On him, whose hand thy stones memorial laid;
Then I remember one of whom was said
In the world's darkest hour, "Behold thy son!"
And see him living still, and wandering on
And waiting for the advent long delayed.
Not only tongues of the apostles teach
Lessons of love and light, but these expanding
And sheltering boughs with all their leaves implore,
And say in language clear as human speech,
"The peace of God, that passeth understanding,
Be and abide with you forevermore!"
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Wrought Iron
On a quiet sunday morning
the prayers are echoing from a nearby Chapel.
A village Blacksmith rests for a while
leaving his big hammer aside.
His daughter has gone to sunday school
with the farmer's twin sons.
Wife makes bread rolls and a porridge
and busy in the kitchen.
He heard a rare whisper in the workshop.
An iron strip shrieks,
'let me live happily
until I get rusty and die,
Boss, why do you try to hammer
and give me a shape with a temper?
sharpen me and make a sword
you want me to be head the mankind.
leave me alone,
and if you are not an adamant
please make me a sickle.
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poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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At Cashel
ABOVE me stand, worn from their ancient use,
The King's, the Bishop's, and the Warrior's house,
Quiet as folds upon a grassy knoll:
Stark-grey they stand, wall joined to ancient wall,
Chapel, and Castle, and Cathedral.
It is not they are old, but stone by stone
Into another lifetime they have grown,
The life of memories an old man has:
They dream upon what things have come to pass,
And know that stones grow friendly with the grass.
The name has crumbled CASHEL that has come
From conqueror-challenging CASTELLUM
Walls m a name! No citadel is here,
Now as a fane the empty walls uprear
Where green and greener grass spreads far and near!
poem by Padraic Colum
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Summer Solstice....the longest day a thousand x's
Sarson blue pagan stone, stand sentential
As reverence
To mankind
Who feared all that was mystical
The rise of....
Life giver
Sol
Lifted wings of raven
Vibrated, moved was hushed
For a moments silence....
As the grass by subtle sun.... brushed
Sun crept over
(Heel stone)
Glorious rays teased
Air crisp
Breaths weaved through verde plane
As thoughts of harvest and gift of child
Recalled their spirits again
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poem by Karen Sinclair
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Wedding Bells
Wedding bells are ringing in the chapel
that should have been ringing
out for you and me.
Now down the isle you walk
with someone else on your arm
instead of me.
We thought in our love
we had everything
until he came along
and swept you off your feet
taking you from my loving arms.
Now up the isle you go with him
to take your wedding vows
as I stand watching,
just another face in the crowd.
I could say something
but I won’t,
as this is your wedding day.
I shall simply slip into the shadows
and then slowly slip away.
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poem by David Harris
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Sonnet: The Ghosts Of James And Peirce In Harvard Yard
In memory of D. W. Prall
The ghosts of James and Peirce in Harvard Yard
At star-pierced midnight, after the chapel bell
(Episcopalian! palian! the ringing soared!)
Stare at me now as if they wish me well.
In the waking dream amid the trees which fall,
Bar and bough of shadow, by my shadow crossed,
They have not slept for long and they know all,
Know time's exhaustion and the spirit's cost.
"We studied the radiant sun, the star's pure seed:
Darkness is infinite! The blind can see
Hatred's necessity and love's grave need
Now that the poor are murdered across the sea,
And you are ignorant, who hear the bell;
Ignorant, you walk between heaven and hell."
poem by Delmore Schwartz
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Agnostic
The chapel looms against the sky,
Above the vine-clad shelves,
And as the peasants pass it by
They cross themselves.
But I alone, I grieve to state,
Lack sentiment divine:
A citified sophisticate,
I make no sign.
Their gesture may a habit be,
Mechanic in a sense,
Yet somehow it awakes in me
Strange reverence.
And though from ignorance it stem,
Somehow I deeply grieve,
And wish down in my heart like them
I could believe.
Suppose a cottage I should buy,
And little patch of vine,
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poem by Robert William Service
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Went up a year this evening!
93
Went up a year this evening!
I recollect it well!
Amid no bells nor bravoes
The bystanders will tell!
Cheerful—as to the village—
Tranquil—as to repose—
Chastened—as to the Chapel
This humble Tourist rose!
Did not talk of returning!
Alluded to no time
When, were the gales propitious—
We might look for him!
Was grateful for the Roses
In life's diverse bouquet—
Talked softly of new species
To pick another day;
Beguiling thus the wonder
The wondrous nearer drew—
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poem by Emily Dickinson
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Against all odds
I'll tattoo in ink your
tender touch to my breast,
or maybe
on my way home,
I'll carve your name in my
favorite maple tree,
for I do not know really
how to keep you
close to my door.
And when my heart beats
violently a thousand times
for you.
I'll remind it,
you are in an ample
nation far from my reach.
A chapel’s bell will send
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poem by Elenushka Toledo
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