A Parable From Liebig

The church bells were ringing, the devil sat singing
    On the stump of a rotting old tree;
'Oh faith it grows cold, and the creeds they grow old,
    And the world is nigh ready for me.'

The bells went on ringing, a spirit came singing,
    And smiled as he crumbled the tree;
'Yon wood does but perish new seedlings to cherish,
    And the world is too live yet for thee.'

Eversley, 1848.

Charles Kingsley

Charles Kingsley was an English writer, historian, and clergyman born on June 12, 1819, in Holne, Devon. He was associated with the Christian Socialist movement and was a friend of prominent figures such as Charles Darwin. Kingsley is best known for his historical novels, including 'Westward Ho!' and 'Hypatia,' as well as his children's book 'The Water-Babies.' His works often explore social issues and aim to contribute to societal reform. Kingsley died on January 23, 1875, in Eversley, Hampshire.

Charles Kingsley

The Weird Lady

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

Sonnet

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

To G. A. G.

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

The Outlaw

Charles Kingsley, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Dead Church

Wild wild wind, wilt thou never cease thy sighing?
    Dark dark night, wilt thou never wear away?
Cold cold church, in thy death sleep lying,
    The Lent is past, thy Passion here, but not thine Easter-day.

Peace, faint heart, though the night be dark and sighing;
    Rest, fair corpse, where thy Lord himself hath lain.
Weep, dear Lord, above thy bride low lying;
    Thy tears shall wake her frozen limbs to life and health again.

Eversley, 1848.

Charles Kingsley

Old And New: A Parable

See how the autumn leaves float by decaying,
Down the wild swirls of the rain-swollen stream.
So fleet the works of men, back to their earth again;
Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.

Nay! see the spring-blossoms steal forth a-maying,
Clothing with tender hues orchard and glen;
So, though old forms pass by, ne'er shall their spirit die,
Look!    England's bare boughs show green leaf again.

Eversley, 1848.

Charles Kingsley

A Christmas Carol

It chanced upon the merry merry Christmas eve,
    I went sighing past the church across the moorland dreary -
'Oh! never sin and want and woe this earth will leave,
    And the bells but mock the wailing round, they sing so cheery.
How long, O Lord! how long before Thou come again?
    Still in cellar, and in garret, and on moorland dreary
The orphans moan, and widows weep, and poor men toil in vain,
    Till earth is sick of hope deferred, though Christmas bells be cheery.'

Then arose a joyous clamour from the wild-fowl on the mere,
    Beneath the stars, across the snow, like clear bells ringing,
And a voice within cried - 'Listen! - Christmas carols even here!
    Though thou be dumb, yet o'er their work the stars and snows are singing.
Blind!    I live, I love, I reign...

Charles Kingsley

While Drawing In A Church-Yard

"It is sad that so many of worth,
Still in the flesh," soughed the yew,
"Misjudge their lot whom kindly earth
Secludes from view.

"They ride their diurnal round
Each day-span's sum of hours
In peerless ease, without jolt or bound
Or ache like ours.

"If the living could but hear
What is heard by my roots as they creep
Round the restful flock, and the things said there,
No one would weep."

"'Now set among the wise,'
They say: 'Enlarged in scope,
That no God trumpet us to rise
We truly hope.'"

I listened to his strange tale
In the mood that stillness brings,
And I grew to accept as the day wore pale
That show of things.

Thomas Hardy

The Ballad Of God-Makers

A bird flew out at the break of day
From the nest where it had curled,
And ere the eve the bird had set
Fear on the kings of the world.

The first tree it lit upon
Was green with leaves unshed;
The second tree it lit upon
Was red with apples red;

The third tree it lit upon
Was barren and was brown,
Save for a dead man nailed thereon
On a hill above a town.

That right the kings of the earth were gay
And filled the cup and can;
Last night the kings of the earth were chill
For dread of a naked man.

'If he speak two more words,' they said,
'The slave is more than the free;
If he speak three more words,' they said,
'The stars are under the sea.'

Said the King of the East to the King of the West,
I wot his frown ...

Gilbert Keith Chesterton

Ode To Sir Andrew Agnew, Bart.[1]

"At certain seasons he makes a prodigious clattering with his bill." - SELBY.

"The bill is rather long, flat, and tinged with green." - BEWICK.


O Andrew Fairservice, - but I beg pardon,
You never labor'd in Di Vernon's garden,
On curly kale and cabbages intent, -
Andrew Churchservice was the thing I meant, -
You are a Christian - I would be the same,
Although we differ, and I'll tell you why,
Not meaning to make game,
I do not like my Church so very High!

When people talk, as talk they will,
About your bill,
They say, among their other jibes and small jeers,
That, if you had your way,
You'd make the seventh day
As overbearing as the Dey of Algiers.
Talk of converting Blacks -
    By your attacks,
You make a thing so horrible o...

Thomas Hood