The Unpardonable Sin
This is the sin against the Holy Ghost: —
To speak of bloody power as right divine,
And call on God to guard each vile chief's house,
And for such chiefs, turn men to wolves and swine:—
To go forth killing in White Mercy's name,
Making the trenches stink with spattered brains,
Tearing the nerves and arteries apart,
Sowing with flesh the unreaped golden plains.
In any Church's name, to sack fair towns,
And turn each home into a screaming sty,
To make the little children fugitive,
And have their mothers for a quick death cry,—
This is the sin against the Holy Ghost:
This is the sin no purging can atone:—
To send forth rapine in the name of Christ:—
To set the face, and make the heart a stone.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
He Dwelleth in You
Saviour, I thy word believe,
My unbelief remove;
Now thy quick'ning Spirit give,
The unction from above;
Shew me, Lord, how good thou art,
My soul with all thy fulness fill:
Send the witness in my heart
The Holy Ghost reveal.
Dead in sin 'till then I lie,
Bereft of power to rise;
Till thy Spirit inwardly
Thy saving blood applies:
Now the mighty gift impart,
My sin erase, my pardon seal:
Send the witness, in my heart
The Holy Ghost reveal.
Blessed Comforter, come down,
And live and move in me;
Make my every deed thy own,
In all things led by thee:
Bid my every lust depart,
And with me O vouchsafe to dwell;
Faithful witness, in my heart
Thy perfect light reveal.
Let me in thy love rejoice,
Thy shrine, thy pure abode;
Tell me, by thine inward voice,
That I'm a child of God:
Lord, I choose the better part,
Jesus, I wait thy peace to feel;
Send the witness in my heart
The Holy Ghost reveal.
Whom the world cannot receive,
O manifest in me:
Son of God, I cease to live,
Unless I live in thee
Now impute thy whole desert,
Restore the joy from which I fell:
Breathe the witness, in my heart
The Holy Ghost reveal.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cheating Pain
Time is of the essence,
Cheating pain
I'll pray
I'll give
You send the rain.
All we can do
To mitigate the suffering
Anything to alleviate the agony
In Jesus' name.
Count the minutes
Even the hours
Feel the POWER
In His holy name.
Natural Sciences
Cannot measure this;
Holy Ghost power,
Eternal frame.
If I say I have not sin
Make me a liar
Forgive me Lord
'A chief of sinners'.
poem by Buxton Shippy
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Holy Is The Ghost
Do I believe that you can be,
Saved?
It's not up to me,
To place that judgement made.
And,
Do I believe that you can be,
Saved?
It's not up to me,
To grade or rate your days!
I'm not one to sum up with a fuss...
Who has had it tough,
Without a suffering one covers.
I'm not one to sum up with a fuss...
Who has had it tough,
Without a suffering one covers.
Some days I slip away to pray.
Knowing the expense,
Of the dues I had to pay.
And,
Some days I slip away to pray.
Knowing the expense,
Of the dues I had to pay.
Do I believe that you can be,
Saved?
It's not up to me,
To place that judgement made.
Holy is the Ghost,
That paves the way!
Holy is the Ghost,
That saves!
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
In the morning,
That Ghost saves.
In the evening,
That Ghost saves.
From the dawn and through the night time too!
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
In the morning,
That Ghost saves.
In the evening,
That Ghost saves.
From the dawn and through the night time too!
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that paves the way.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
From the dawn and through the night time too!
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
Holy is the Ghost that saves.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
May I Constantly Find You
May I constantly find You,
may You cross every road with me,
may I always stand before Your face
as long as blood flows through my veins
and may my house wherever it is
be called a home of prayer, a holy place
and a place that never goes against Your will
where only Your Holy Ghost comes in,
make me to only your property,
that only Your works flower in my life.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: The First Holy Communion
Commune with Christ through his Body and Blood,
For He’s present in Eucharistic Host!
This is the Christian soul’s Heavenly food,
Into which bread to dwell comes Holy Ghost.
The Communion’s holy- a sacrament;
We must receive it only when sin-free;
Confess our sins; be like the firmament,
The Sky clear blue and rain-bearing clouds free.
Today’s your First Holy Communion!
Prepare your heart, for Christ must visit you;
And Satan tries to destroy this union;
This sacrament can make you divine too.
And after your communion with God first,
Your soul becomes a dwelling place for Christ!
26-8-2001
poem is dedicated to Cathy, Christy, Anto, Julian and
Beschi
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Make This House A Home
Well theres something in us living
Theres something you should know
There was a time for us to fall
Now its time to grow
But you know its not the way
That I intended it to be
Crossing hearts and killing souls
And trying to get down to whats real
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
All I needed was your hand to hold
I spent so much time alone
I needed your direction
But we re-aligned my broken bones
Well theyre running from a lifeless state
Somehow we lost our hold
All we have with us is change
Left over from what started out as gold
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
Im holding you responsible for every word I say
If you feel the brokenness
Wont you try and look the other way
I never meant to be so low
I only wanted you to see
That time was healing someone else
But its tearing apart the very heart of me
This is what I give to you
Its flesh and blood
Its body and soul
Wont you take whats left of who I am
And try to see it whole
All I ever wanted was to make this house a home
I let go of sinking sand - wont you help me find a stone
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
All I ever wanted
Was to make this house a home
So make this house a home
Make this house a home
Make this house a home
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
I Have A Baptism
God’s truth will out and must be preached
Till earth’s four corners have been reached
“My Ghost and Flame shall be outpoured –Joel.2: 28
Receive my child”, thus says The Lord
The bible’s here for man to read
God welcomes all to on Christ to feed –Jn.6: 51
Throughout the flock He spreads The Flame –Lk.12: 50
To guide to heal purge of shame
God’s word is meat to babies tough
Water baptism’s not enough
If endless life is man’s desire
He must receive God’s Ghost & Fire –Jn.3: 6
The Fire of Christ refines till pure
Consumes our ills none else can cure –Heb.12: 29
Burning the chaff midst Jesus’ wheat –Mt.3: 12
Bringing the foe beneath our feet
By grace God’s Holy Ghost is here
Spirit & Flame have none to fear
When safe and sound in Jesus’ hand
The truth we truly understand
God’s Fire burns deep cleansing the heart
Consuming dross from every part
Salvation comes the truth to give
When through The Flame again we’ll live –Gen.3: 24
God’s Fire brings death upon its knees
Who holds the truth receives the keys
Eternal life body and soul
For those in Christ The Flame’s made whole
We need The Fire to win life’s race
But pure of heart will see God’s face
One thing in Christ we need the most
Fire baptism with His Holy Ghost…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Ishmonie
The traveller tells how, in that ancient clime
Whose mystic monuments and ruins hoar
Still struggle with the antiquary's lore,
To guard the secrets of a by-gone time,
He saw, uprising from the desert bare,
Like a white ghost, a city of the dead,
With palaces and temples wondrous fair,
Where moon-horn'd Isis once was worshipped.
But silence, like a pall, did all enfold,
And the inhabitants were turn'd to stone --
Yea, stone the very heart of every one!
Once to a rich man I this tale re-told.
"Stone hearts! A traveller's myth!" -- he turn'd aside,
As Hunger begg'd, pale-featured and wild-eyed.
poem by Edward Booth Loughran
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When I Get To Heaven
Verse One:
Listen to the preacherman
But are you talkin' to me
I can't hear you with a mouth full of pig's feet
If I should need the swine flesh
Your body is a mess, but you're blessed
With a father, son, spirit and the holy ghost
But my whole neigborhood is comatose
Lookin' for survival
The devil made you a slave and he gave you a bible
400 years gettin' our ass kicked
By so-called christians and catholics
But I watch 'em burn in a fire
See I'm a g, that's why I ain't in your choir
Cause I see, cause I know
The church ain't nothin' but a fashion show
Get the devil to a 187
And they won't call me a nigga when I get to heaven
Verse Two:
You're waitin' for the devil to come from the ground
Clown, take a look around
Just look at the cross that the priest is holdin'
A beast in sheep's clothing
But I'm rollin' with that knowledge of self
Cause heaven ain't just wealth
So mister preacher, if I couldn't pay my tithe
Do I have to wait outside?
White man, please take another look
Cause we couldn't be readin' out of the same book
Cause youse a crook and I'm a brother
King James had sex with his mother
Is that your edition? Is that your religion?
Black man, you gotta make a desicion
Cause God is comin' on day number seven
And he won't call me a nigga when I get to heaven
Verse Three:
The same white man that threw me in the slammer
He bombed the church in Alabama
So if I cock the hammer, God won't mind
If I have to kill the human swine
Cause God is a killer from the start
Why you think Noah had to build his ark
And God is a man from his feet to his hair
That's why you say 'amen' after each and every prayer
I just stare at the church man
Spendin' more money on the church band
But Elijah's got a plan
Got the white man screamin': 'Damn that Farrakhan!'
Cause one day these babies are uprise
Much more than bowties and bean pies
Kickin' knowledge at 7-11
And they won't call me a nigga when I get to heaven
song performed by by Ice Cube
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Serve Fresh Bread Daily (1)
Anointed has a priest to be
Through holy oil the truth to see
Secrets of God they understand
Revealed to them in Jesus’ hand
But some still try to preach of sin
Without God’s Holy Ghost within
Using sweet words none to offend
They’ll only speak of God as friend
A God who’s heart’s so full of peace
His grace and love will never cease
They’ll take great care to choose each word
An angry God is seldom heard
With such stale bread they’ll feed God’s church
No wonder sheep through hunger search
For pastures green, by Jesus led
To a priest not spiritually dead
No priest should preach to fill their purse
Otherwise they’ll reap God’s curse Eze.34: 2
If Christ The Lord we’ll truly please
We’ll seek His face upon our knees
No child of God is mocked for long
Eating stale bread, washed down with song
The Lord sees well His children’s plight
From these shepherds, they’ll take their flight
So priest of God be not deceived
Speak the truth so God’s not grieved
Give through His Son your spiritual best
Then stand aside; He’ll do the rest
When called, you’ll know these words are true
That God awaits much fruit from you –Jn.15: 2
So from the flock that none should fall
Let’s make The Lord our one and all…PTO…
poem by Michael P. Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: Jesus Always Lives In The Holy Eucharist
O Jesus Christ, alive even today,
In Tabernacle's sanctified bread-host,
Adored by faithful, praying night and day
-Visible sign of Father, Holy Ghost!
O Holy Sacrament of Eucharist!
Forgive our sins and fill our souls with grace;
This is the body of Redeemer Christ
That lives, although we cannot see His face!
We praise Thee Lord, and thank Thee for all things;
We sing to Thee and glorify Thee Lord;
Thou art the Lord of lords and King of kings
-The incarnated God and the fleshed Word!
Do hear our pleas of banished Eve's children;
Have mercy, Lord and take us to Heaven!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
His Church Can Rise Up
Today The Church can rise above, through God’s power and His Love.
She can rise up to the task at hand, and for The Lord can take a stand.
My friend, even in the darkest nights, we can rise up to greater heights.
For we can rise up in Christ’s Victory, as we march forward to Eternity.
Jesus Christ will build His Church, and build it upon The Savior’s worth.
She’s not built upon an earthly frame, but built upon Her Savior’s Name.
Jesus Christ the very Cornerstone, guides His Church from His Throne.
For His Church, Jesus Christ alone, is her foundation and the capstone.
He’s the Groom and we’re the Bride, and His Church will not be denied.
He’s creating a Holy Priesthood friend, of whose service will never end.
We my friends are the living stones, bought and placed by Christ alone,
We’re being built into a spiritual house, by the Church’s Eternal Spouse.
Even though darkened forces rail, the gates of Hades shall not prevail.
Christ’s Victory we can proclaim, through the power of His Holy Name.
We need to rise up above the night, and lift up high Christ’s Holy Light.
We can rise above every situation, and point the world to His salvation.
Very soon The Church will surly rise, to meet The Savior up in the skies,
Dear friend Satan is the defeated foe, and this we need to let men know.
So we need to rise up and tell all men, that Satan is the one condemned,
And when they join The Church of Christ, they too shall gain Eternal Life.
(Copyright ©04/2006)
Wickedness Within
There’s a wickedness deep within, causing many to stumble in sin,
For desperately wicked is our heart, and from it we cannot depart.
And who can know that inner part, down inside each human heart?
So to know the deepest thought; where all our actions are wrought.
With such a heart, beyond cure, can we, before Holy God endure?
For one day friend all will stand, before The Lord upon Holy Land.
And it is God, who has the cure, to help us with a heart that’s pure.
This if we take the time with Him, to reason together regarding sin.
With such a deceitful heart friend, separation from God is our end,
Compared to a Righteous God; who shall destroy sin with His rod,
The sin that sets all men apart, which stems from a deceitful heart.
But this can change by God’s Love, Grace and Mercy from above.
A brand new heart we shall receive, when in Christ we truly believe.
Our heart He cleanses of its dross, with the blood from the cross,
Purging us of our wickedness, through Jesus’ own Righteousness.
Through the blood of Jesus Christ, a wicked heart can see new life.
It’s the deceitfulness of our sin, that keeps us from accepting Him,
But, if we’d only reason with God, He’d lead us with staff and rod.
He’ll make our sin white as snow, when His Son we come to know,
Who shed His blood on Calvary, so we can live with God eternally.
(Copyright ©03/2007)
Make Way For The Lady
Some life Ive bin livin
Like a song in the night
Good sounds every moment
Good news and bright lights
Anytime I get lonesome
I just got ta do the things right
Make way for the lady
You can do it my son
Makin hay with no gravy
Brings the good folk down
Anytime you get lonely
You just got to turn it around
This life Ive bin given
It dont tell you no lies
Couldve been somewhat wasted
How could it be otherwise
When the sound of the laughter
Brought the tears in to my eyes
Make way for the lady
You can do it my son
Makin hay with no gravy
Gets the days work done
When a blue mood gets rollin
You just got to turn it around
Turn it around
Shake hands with the father
The son and the holy ghost
The impossible believers
And the heavenly host
If you must do it better
You just got to do it the most
Make way for the lady
You can do it my son
Makin hay with no gravy
Brings all the good folks down
When a blue moon starts risin
You just got to turn it around
Turn it around
Turn it around
Make way for the lady
And turn it around
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Changing From Within
Before any changes can begin, God must change us from within,
By The Spirit, who in us resides, to change our hearts and minds.
I speak of a lasting change in us, who in God have put their trust,
To live our entire life for Him, Christ, who gave His life for our sin.
True change, by God, has its start, when in Christ we’re set apart,
Set apart as God’s Holy Ones, as believers we become His Sons.
As we come to Christ we receive, The Holy Spirit when we believe,
And He makes changes in our life, to help us live for Jesus Christ.
As His, we don’t stay the same, altered by the power of His name,
You shall be changed, be assured, to be a testimony for our Lord.
He puts us in the Narrow Way, with sustaining Grace for each day,
Grace coupled with His Power, to live for God each day and hour.
But, an active role we must play, in living for the Savior every day,
As certain choices that we make, deal with ways we must forsake.
The initial change God made inside, now, in Christ we must abide,
To make those changes that we need, to live life as God decreed.
This cannot be done apart, from God’s Word dwelling in our heart,
Richly dwelling within our soul, making us in Christ, new and whole,
Transforming our heart and mind, this as we leave the past behind,
Through change made by our Lord; changes that won’t go ignored.
(Copyright ©04/2008)
Heaven
Verse one:
Listen to the preacherman
But are you talkin to me
I cant hear you with a mouth full of pigs feet
If I should need the swine flesh
Your body is a mess, but youre blessed
With a father, son, spirit and the holy ghost
But my whole neigborhood is comatose
Lookin for survival
The devil made you a slave and he gave you a bible
400 years gettin our ass kicked
By so-called christians and catholics
But I watch em burn in a fire
See Im a g, thats why I aint in your choir
Cause I see, cause I know
The church aint nothin but a fashion show
Get the devil to a 187
And they wont call me a nigga when I get to heaven
Verse two:
Youre waitin for the devil to come from the ground
Clown, take a look around
Just look at the cross that the priest is holdin
A beast in sheeps clothing
But Im rollin with that knowledge of self
Cause heaven aint just wealth
So mister preacher, if I couldnt pay my tithe
Do I have to wait outside?
White man, please take another look
Cause we couldnt be readin out of the same book
Cause youse a crook and Im a brother
King james had sex with his mother
Is that your edition? is that your religion?
Black man, you gotta make a desicion
Cause God is comin on day number seven
And he wont call me a nigga when I get to heaven
Verse three:
The same white man that threw me in the slammer
He bombed the church in alabama
So if I cock the hammer, God wont mind
If I have to kill the human swine
Cause God is a killer from the start
Why you think noah had to build his ark
And God is a man from his feet to his hair
Thats why you say amen after each and every prayer
I just stare at the church man
Spendin more money on the church band
But elijahs got a plan
Got the white man screamin: damn that farrakhan!
Cause one day these babies are uprise
Much more than bowties and bean pies
Kickin knowledge at 7-11
And they wont call me a nigga when I get to heaven
song performed by by Ice Cube
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Hospital
Large, heavy, wooden, daunting doors
loom before my eyes as I enter.
An empty side office, reception
with old fashioned filing cabinets,
dark now, glass shutters, closed.
Another heavy door in front of me,
this one leads to a wide, cold floored corridor.
I baulk, want to turn heel, go home.
The black and white tiling, lofty ceiling,
does nothing but repulse me.
More heavy, locked doors
with tiny, peep hole windows, all barred.
Screaming, faint screaming echoes,
ghost like, as it drifts towards me
gradually getting louder.
I reach a wide, stone staircase.
Everything's locked and bolted,
no one passes and the screaming echoes.
Asylums, those old mental hospitals,
where we still send the forgotten
to live out their lives and rot.
You wouldn't ever call this home
and the world outside rolls on
as the traffic drifts by.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Stereotomy
Lead vocal - john miles
Diamond eyes
That burn me and turn me to stone
Crystalise
And freeze me in clear monochrome
Turn me to stone; do anything you want with me
Turn me to stone; do anything you want
Stereotomy
We can make it together
Do anything you want with me
Do anything you want
Scarlet minds
Possess me and I feel no shame
Silent knives
Dissect me and I feel no pain
Stereotomy
We can make it together
Do anything you want with me
Do anything you want
Stereotomy
We can make it forever
Do anything you want with me
Do anything you want
Starlight beams
Project me in red blue and green
Velvet dreams
Protect me when I hit the screen
Stereotomy
We can make it together
Do anything you want with me, do anything you want
Stereotomy
We can make it forever
Its always the same, its always the same
Stereotomy, we can make it
We can make it, do anything you want
Turn me to stone
Do anything you want with me
Cover my eyes
Theres nothing more they need to see
Turn me to stone
Before theres nothing left of me
Make me a rock
And not what I appear to be
Turn me to stone
Turn me to stone
song performed by by Alan Parsons Project
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
U-Turns Allowed
God allows for all u-turns in life, on this road of worldly strife,
All can make a u-turn today, from that broad to a narrow way,
Open to any upon that path, strewn with litter of Satan’s wrath,
Simply turn into God’s Door, and find a path, stable and sure.
God gives light, day and night, in the moon and sun so bright,
Though it’s covered up at times, by God’s choice and design,
He sheds His Light on us all, who left the broad for that small,
To travel that narrow way of life, with God’s Son, Jesus Christ.
When the darker clouds appear, on His path, we need not fear,
After making in life a turnaround, we’re on one sure and sound,
When those shadows fall ahead, we can lean on Christ instead,
Of pursuing matters on our own, to deal with our trials all alone.
As you choose to turn to Him, He turns your life away from sin,
Through The Spirit’s interjection, God gives a life new direction,
God’s Holy Spirit takes the lead, as His Truth we begin to heed,
Guiding us in each turn and bend, by the wisdom He shall send.
When you turn your heart to Christ, God will give you a new life,
Putting you on a new road, that takes you to a Heavenly abode,
For when that first turn is taken, by God, you won’t be forsaken,
And up in Heaven you will see, He’ll be with you through eternity.
(Copyright ©09/2008)
My Foe
A Belgian Priest-Soldier Speaks;
GURR! You cochon! Stand and fight!
Show your mettle! Snarl and bite!
Spawn of an accursed race,
Turn and meet me face to face!
Here amid the wreck and rout
Let us grip and have it out!
Here where ruins rock and reel
Let us settle, steel to steel!
Look! Our houses, how they spit
Sparks from brands your friends have lit.
See! Our gutters running red,
Bright with blood your friends have shed.
Hark! Amid your drunken brawl
How our maidens shriek and call.
Why have you come here alone,
To this hearth's blood-spattered stone?
Come to ravish, come to loot,
Come to play the ghoulish brute.
Ah, indeed! We well are met,
Bayonet to bayonet.
God! I never killed a man:
Now I'll do the best I can.
Rip you to the evil heart,
Laugh to see the life-blood start.
Bah! You swine! I hate you so.
Show you mercy? No! . . . and no! . . .
There! I've done it. See! He lies
Death a-staring from his eyes;
Glazing eyeballs, panting breath,
How it's horrible, is Death!
Plucking at his bloody lips
With his trembling finger-tips;
Choking in a dreadful way
As if he would something say
In that uncouth tongue of his. . . .
Oh, how horrible Death is!
How I wish that he would die!
So unnerved, unmanned am I.
See! His twitching face is white!
See! His bubbling blood is bright.
Why do I not shout with glee?
What strange spell is over me?
There he lies; the fight was fair;
Let me toss my cap in air.
Why am I so silent? Why
Do I pray for him to die?
Where is all my vengeful joy?
Ugh! My foe is but a boy.
I'd a brother of his age
Perished in the war's red rage;
Perished in the Ypres hell:
Oh, I loved my brother well.
And though I be hard and grim,
How it makes me think of him!
He had just such flaxen hair
As the lad that's lying there.
Just such frank blue eyes were his. . . .
God! How horrible war is!
I have reason to be gay:
There is one less foe to slay.
I have reason to be glad:
Yet -- my foe is such a lad.
So I watch in dull amaze,
See his dying eyes a-glaze,
See his face grow glorified,
See his hands outstretched and wide
To that bit of ruined wall
Where the flames have ceased to crawl,
Where amid the crumbling bricks
Hangs a blackebed crucifix.
Now, oh now I understand.
Quick I press it in his hand,
Close his feeble finger-tips,
Hold it to his faltering lips.
As I watch his welling blood
I would stem it if I could.
God of Pity, let him live!
God of Love, forgive, forgive.
* * * *
His face looked strangely, as he died,
Like that of One they crucified.
And in the pocket of his coat
I found a letter; thus he wrote:
The things I've seen! Oh, mother dear,
I'm wondering can God be here?
To-night amid the drunken brawl
I saw a Cross hung on a wall;
I'll seek it now, and there alone
Perhaps I may atone, atone. . . .
Ah no! 'Tis I who must atone.
No other saw but God alone;
Yet how can I forget the sight
Of that face so woeful white!
Dead I kissed him as he lay,
Knelt by him and tried to pray;
Left him lying there at rest,
Crucifix upon his breast.
Not for him the pity be.
Ye who pity, pity me,
Crawling now the ways I trod,
Blood-guilty in sight of God.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!