Christopher Pearse Cranch

(1815-1892 / the USA)

Christopher Pearse Cranch Poems

1. A Child-Savior 9/24/2010
2. After The Centennial 9/24/2010
3. After-Life 9/24/2010
4. An Old Umbrella 9/24/2010
5. Broken Wings 9/24/2010
6. December 9/24/2010
7. Ars Longa, Vita Brevis 9/24/2010
8. My Old Palette 9/24/2010
9. My Studio 9/24/2010
10. Old And Young 9/24/2010
11. Omar Khayyam 9/24/2010
12. Ormuzd And Ahriman. A Cantata 9/24/2010
13. Prince Yousuf And The Alcayde 9/24/2010
14. Rosamond 9/24/2010
15. San Borondon 9/24/2010
16. Sea Pictures 9/24/2010
17. So Far, So Near 9/24/2010
18. Sonnet I. 9/24/2010
19. Sonnet Ii. 9/24/2010
20. Sonnet Iii. 9/24/2010
21. Sonnet Iv. 9/24/2010
22. Sonnet Ix. 9/24/2010
23. Sonnet L. J.R.L. (On His Homeward Voyage) 2. 9/24/2010
24. Sonnet Li. The Human Flower. 1. 9/24/2010
25. Sonnet Lii. The Human Flower. 2. 9/24/2010
26. Sonnet Liii. August. 9/24/2010
27. Sonnet Liv. Idle Hours. 9/24/2010
28. Sonnet Lvi. Music And Poetry. 2. 9/24/2010
29. Sonnet Lvii. To Sleep. 9/24/2010
30. Sonnet V. 9/24/2010
31. Sonnet Vi. 9/24/2010
32. Sonnet Vii. 9/24/2010
33. Sonnet Viii. 9/24/2010
34. Sonnet X. 9/24/2010
35. Sonnet Xii. The Ocean Steamer. 9/24/2010
36. Sonnet Xiii. The Locomotive. 9/24/2010
37. Sonnet Xiv. The Telegraph And Telephone. 9/24/2010
38. Sonnet Xix. The Lady’s Sonnet. Twilight. 9/24/2010
39. Sonnet Xl. John Weiss. 9/24/2010
40. Sonnet Xli. George Ripley 9/24/2010

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Best Poem of Christopher Pearse Cranch

Gnosis

Thought is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought:
Souls to souls never can teach
What unto themselves was taught.

We are spirits clad in veils;
Man by man was never seen;
All our deep communing fails
To remove the shadowy screen.

Heart to heart was never known;
Mind with mind did never meet;
We are columns left alone
Of a temple once complete.

Like the stars that gem the sky,
Far apart though seeming near,
In our light we scattered lie;
All is thus but starlight here.

What is social company
But a babbling ...

Read the full of Gnosis

A Word To Philosophers

COLD philosophers, so apt
With your formulas exacting,
In your problems so enwrapt,
And your theories distracting;
Webs of metaphysic doubt
On your wheels forever spinning,
Turning Nature inside out
From its end to its beginning;
Drawing forth from matter raw

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