John Keble

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

John Keble Poems

1. Fourth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
2. Fourth Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
3. Burial 1/1/2004
4. Burial Of The Dead 1/3/2003
5. The Restoration Of The Royal Family 1/1/2004
6. Third Sunday After Easter 1/1/2004
7. Churching Of Women 1/1/2004
8. Visitation And Communion Of The Sick 1/1/2004
9. King Charles The Martyr 1/3/2003
10. November 1/3/2003
11. First Sunday After Easter 1/1/2004
12. First Sunday After Epiphany 1/1/2004
13. Matrimony 1/1/2004
14. First Sunday After Christmas 1/1/2004
15. Seventeenth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
16. Holy Baptism 1/1/2004
17. Twenty-Fourth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
18. Twenty-Third Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
19. Thursday Before Easter 1/3/2003
20. Trinity Sunday 1/1/2004
21. Tuesday Before Easter 1/1/2004
22. Tuesday In Easter Week 1/1/2004
23. Tuesday In Whitsun-Week 1/1/2004
24. Fifteenth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
25. Twenty-Fifth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
26. Cathchism 1/1/2004
27. Sixteenth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
28. Sixth Sunday After Epiphany 1/1/2004
29. Third Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
30. Third Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
31. St. Peter's Day 1/1/2004
32. St. Philip And St. James 1/1/2004
33. St. Simon And St. Jude 1/1/2004
34. The Conversion Of St. Paul 1/1/2004
35. First Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
36. First Sunday In Lent 1/1/2004
37. Thirteenth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
38. St. Bartholomew 1/1/2004
39. St. James's Day 1/1/2004
40. St. John Baptist's Day 1/1/2004
Best Poem of John Keble

Palm Sunday

Ye whose hearts are beating high
With the pulse of Poesy,
Heirs of more than royal race,
Fram’d by Heaven’s peculiar grace,
God’s own work to do on earth,
(If the word be not too bold,)
Giving virtue a new birth,
And a life that ne’er grows old—
Sovereign masters of all hearts!
Know ye, who hath set your parts?
He who gave you breath to sing,
By whose strength ye sweep the string,
He hath chosen you, to lead
His Hosannas here below;—
Mount, and claim your glorious meed;
Linger not with sin and woe.

But if ye should hold your ...

Read the full of Palm Sunday

Ascension Day

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:

My soul is envious of mine eye,
That it should soar and glide with thee so fast,
The while my grovelling thoughts half buried lie,
Or lawless roam around this earthly waste.

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