John Keble was an English churchman and poet, one of the leaders of the Oxford Movement, and gave his name to Keble College, Oxford.
Life and Writings
He was born in Fairford, Gloucestershire where his father, the Rev. John Keble, was Vicar of Coln St. Aldwyns. He attended Corpus Christi College, Oxford, and, after a brilliant academic performance there, became a Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford, and was for some years a tutor and examiner in the University. While still at Oxford he took Holy Orders in 1815, and became first a curate to his father, and later curate of St Michael and St Martin's Church, Eastleach Martin in ... more »
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John Keble Poems
'Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze, Fast fading from our wistful gaze; You mantling cloud has hid from sight The last faint pulse of quivering light.
Blest Are The Pure In Heart
Blest are the pure in heart, For they shall see our God; The secret of the Lord is theirs; Their soul is Christ’s abode.
Fifth Sunday In Lent
The historic Muse, from age to age, Through many a waste heart-sickening page Hath traced the works of Man: But a celestial call to-day
Ye whose hearts are beating high With the pulse of Poesy, Heirs of more than royal race, Fram’d by Heaven’s peculiar grace,
"Yes--deep within and deeper yet The rankling shaft of conscience hide, Quick let the swelling eye forget The tears that in the heart abide.
Is it not strange, the darkest hour That ever dawned on sinful earth Should touch the heart with softer power For comfort than an angel's mirth?
Soft cloud, that while the breeze of May Chants her glad matins in the leafy arch, Draw'st thy bright veil across the heavenly way Meet pavement for an angel's glorious march:
At length the worst is o'er, and Thou art laid Deep in Thy darksome bed; All still and cold beneath yon dreary stone Thy sacred form is gone;
Fifth Sunday After Trinity
"The livelong night we've toiled in vain, But at Thy gracious word I will let down the net again:- Do Thou Thy will, O Lord!"
What sudden blaze of song Spreads o'er th' expanse of Heaven? In waves of light it thrills along, Th' angelic signal given -
Fifth Sunday After Easter - Rogation Sun...
Now is there solemn pause in earth and heaven; The Conqueror now His bonds hath riven, And Angels wonder why He stays below:
All Saint's Day
Why blow'st thou not, thou wintry wind, Now every leaf is brown and sere, And idly droops, to thee resigned, The fading chaplet of the year?
The shadow of th' Almighty's cloud Calm on this tents of Israel lay, While drooping paused twelve banners proud, Till He arise and lead this way.
Red o’er the forest peers the setting sun; The line of yellow light dies fast away That crown’d the eastern copse; and chill and dun Falls on the moor the brief November day.
Comments about John Keble
'Tis gone, that bright and orbed blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
You mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.
In darkness and in weariness
The traveller on his way must press,
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.
Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near:
Oh, may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes!
When round Thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out Wisdom, Power and Love,