lost - Popular Poems and stories from category

49I never lost as much but twice,
And that was in the sod
Twice have I stood a
Before the door of God

Found a family, build a state,
The pledged event is still the same:
Matter in end will never
His ancient brutal claim

Desolate and lone All night long on the lake Where fog trails and mist creeps,
The whistle of a boat Calls and cries unendingly,
Like some lost child In tears and trouble Hunting the harbor's breast And the harbor's eyes

It is not over yet-the
Where those immortal dreamers failed
They stormed the citadels of night,
And the night praised them-and prevailed

Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood Praying; for from the mercy-seat above Prevenient grace descending had removed The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh Regenerate grow instead; that sighs now breathed Unutterable; which the S...

Somewhere is music from the linnets' bills,
And thro' the sunny flowers the bee-wings drone,
And white bells of convolvulus on hills Of quiet May make silent ringing, blown Hither and thither by the wind of showers,
And somewhere al...

High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind,
Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold,
Satan exalted sat, by merit raised To that bad eminence; and, ...

O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud,
Then when the Dragon, put to second rout,
Came furious down to be revenged on men,
Woe to the inhabitants on earth

How lost was my
Till Jesus made me whole
There is but one
Can cure a sin-sick

All night the dreadless Angel, unpursued,
Through Heaven's wide champain held his way; till Morn,
Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand Unbarred the gates of light
There is a cave Within the mount of God, fast by his throne,

"He ought to be home," said the old man, "without there's something amiss
He only went to the Two-mile — he ought to be back by this
He would ride the Reckless filly, he would have his wilful way;
And, here, he's not ...

No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake Rural repast; permitting him the while Venial discourse unblam'd
I now must change Those notes to tragick; foul ...