John Keble

(25 April 1792 – 29 March 1866 / Fairford, Gloucestershire)

John Keble Poems

1. The Restoration Of The Royal Family 1/1/2004
2. Sixth Sunday After Epiphany 1/1/2004
3. Trinity Sunday 1/1/2004
4. The Conversion Of St. Paul 1/1/2004
5. Second Sunday After Christmas 1/1/2004
6. St. Bartholomew 1/1/2004
7. St. John Baptist's Day 1/1/2004
8. St. Luke 1/1/2004
9. Second Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
10. Twenty-Third Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
11. Tuesday In Whitsun-Week 1/1/2004
12. First Sunday In Lent 1/1/2004
13. Twelfth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
14. Twenty-First Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
15. Monday In Whitsun-Week 1/1/2004
16. Holy Baptism 1/1/2004
17. Fourth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
18. Matrimony 1/1/2004
19. Holy Communion 1/1/2004
20. Fourth Sunday After Epiphany 1/1/2004
21. Second Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
22. St. Matthew 1/1/2004
23. Monday In Easter Week 1/1/2004
24. St. Stephens Day 1/1/2004
25. St. Philip And St. James 1/1/2004
26. Twenty-Fifth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
27. King Charles The Martyr 1/3/2003
28. Third Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
29. Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
30. Monday Before Easter 1/1/2004
31. Ninth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
32. St. Thomas' Day 1/1/2004
33. Sunday After Ascension 1/1/2004
34. The Accession 1/1/2004
35. Sunday Next Before Advent 1/1/2004
36. The Epiphany 1/1/2004
37. Third Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
38. Fourth Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
39. Tuesday In Easter Week 1/1/2004
40. St. Simon And St. Jude 1/1/2004
Best Poem of John Keble

Evening

'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,
In ...

Read the full of Evening

Burial

And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her, and said unto
her, Weep not. And He came and touched the bier; and they that
bare him stood still. And He said, Young man, I say unto thee,
Arise.--St. Luke vii. 13, 14.

Who says, the wan autumnal soon
Beams with too faint a smile
To light up nature's face again,
And, though the year be on this wane,

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