Amos Bronson Alcott
POET of the Pulpit, whose full-chorded lyre
Startles the churches from their slumbers late,
Discoursing music, mixed with lofty ire
At wrangling factions in the restless state,
Till tingles with thy note each listening ear,—
Then household charities by the friendly fire
Of home, soothe all to fellowship and good cheer!
No sin escapes thy fervent eloquence,
Yet, touching with compassion the true word,
Thou leavest the trembling culprit’s dark offence
To the mediation of his gracious Lord.
To noble thought and deep dost thou dispense
Due meed of praise, strict in thy just award.
Can other pulpits with this preacher cope?
I glory in thy genius, and take hope!
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Bartol by Amos Bronson Alcott )
- This Is Our Mega City, Bijay Kant Dubey
- Love is a Liquid ~~~ vs.55, Monk E. Biz
- Global Village, Bijay Kant Dubey
- PRETTY GOOD START.., ging taping
- Draw me in your heart, Nehemiah Theophylus Haokip
- The thirst is a thorn., Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Simple toys, hasmukh amathalal
- Acquaintance across the gender, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Begining of my love, Nehemiah Theophylus Haokip
- What is all truth, Nehemiah Theophylus Haokip
Poem of the Day
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Footsteps of Angels, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Primary Colours, vince gullaci
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep, Mary Elizabeth Frye
- Alone, Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(7 May 1861 – 7 August 1941)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)