The Annunciation

(For Helen Parry Eden)



"Hail Mary, full of grace," the Angel saith.
Our Lady bows her head, and is ashamed;
She has a Bridegroom Who may not be named,
Her mortal flesh bears Him Who conquers death.
Now in the dust her spirit grovelleth;
Too bright a Sun before her eyes has flamed,
Too fair a herald joy too high proclaimed,
And human lips have trembled in God's breath.

O Mother-Maid, thou art ashamed to cover
With thy white self, whereon no stain can be,
Thy God, Who came from Heaven to be thy Lover,
Thy God, Who came from Heaven to dwell in thee.
About thy head celestial legions hover,
Chanting the praise of thy humility.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Alfred Joyce Kilmer was an American poet, journalist, literary critic, lecturer, and soldier. Though a prolific poet whose works celebrated the common beauty of the natural world, he is best known for a short poem titled 'Trees' (1913), which was published in Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. Kilmer's work has been widely anthologized and remains well-loved. He died during World War I in France at the age of 31.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Queen Elizabeth Speaks

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

To My Mother

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

Mount Houvenkopf

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, Simple Poetry

To a Blackbird and His Mate Who Died in the Spring

Alfred Joyce Kilmer, 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 Visitation

(For Louise Imogen Guiney)



There is a wall of flesh before the eyes
Of John, who yet perceives and hails his King.
It is Our Lady's painful bliss to bring
Before mankind the Glory of the skies.
Her cousin feels her womb's sweet burden rise
And leap with joy, and she comes forth to sing,
With trembling mouth, her words of welcoming.
She knows her hidden God, and prophesies.

Saint John, pray for us, weary souls that tarry
Where life is withered by sin's deadly breath.
Pray for us, whom the dogs of Satan harry,
Saint John, Saint Anne, and Saint Elizabeth.
And, Mother Mary, give us Christ to carry
Within our hearts, that we may conquer death.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

Annunciation.

"The Lord appeared in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush and behold, the bush burned with fire and the bush was not consumed." - EXODUS III. 2.


    When to your virgin heart, unstirred, ungiven,
    Upon the quiet mountain side untrod,
    The sudden naked fire came down from heaven,
    Burning you with the very breath of God,

    Was the sun lost?    Were all the sweet stars dim
    While God raised round your head those walls of light?
    Were you locked dumbly, terribly with Him,
    Within that burning temple day and night?

    What was it to have God there like a bird -
    God like a great, gold flower upon your breast -
    While He spake things that only one man heard,
    Face down before that glory manifest?

    When that str...

Muriel Stuart

The Singing Girl

(For the Rev. Edward F. Garesche, S. J.)



There was a little maiden
In blue and silver drest,
She sang to God in Heaven
And God within her breast.

It flooded me with pleasure,
It pierced me like a sword,
When this young maiden sang:    "My soul
Doth magnify the Lord."

The stars sing all together
And hear the angels sing,
But they said they had never heard
So beautiful a thing.

Saint Mary and Saint Joseph,
And Saint Elizabeth,
Pray for us poets now
And at the hour of death.

Alfred Joyce Kilmer

St. Agnes' Eve

Deep on the convent-roof the snows
Are sparkling to the moon:
My breath to heaven like vapour goes;
May my soul follow soon!
The shadows of the convent-towers
Slant down the snowy sward,
Still creeping with the creeping hours
That lead me to my Lord:
Make Thou my spirit pure and clear
As are the frosty skies,
Or this first snowdrop of the year
That in my bosom lies.

As these white robes are soil'd and dark,
To yonder shining ground;
As this pale taper's earthly spark,
To yonder argent round;
So shows my soul before the Lamb,
My spirit before Thee;
So in mine earthly house I am,
To that I hope to be.
Break up the heavens, O Lord! and far,
Thro' all yon starlight keen,
Draw me, thy bride, a glittering star,
In raiment whi...

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Annunciation - From A Picture By Botticelli

    Immortal eloquence of mystic Art!
    How strangely o'er oblivion and gray time,
    That hand doth speak, as in the painter's prime
    It uttered thus his own and Mary's heart,
    At sight of it, what rich conjectures start,
    Adown the years, what wistful Aves chime,
    That wake the soul to rapture how sublime,
    Wherewith we, too, must bear in Him our part!
    For unto each to bring redemption's share,
    Whereby adown the ages Christ is borne,
    There comes the angel of the lilied rod;
    And though our souls with anguish sore are torn,
    We pray once more the world-o'ercoming prayer,
    And then is born in us the Word of God.

Ethel Allen Murphy

Annunciation - From The Picture By Botticelli

Kneeling in prayer, her spirit rapt above,
She meets with God, Who bendeth, brooding low,
In vast compassion humanward, and so,
There comes upon her life the power of Love:
Rising--behold! with pinions like a dove,
An angel with a rod where row on row
Of chaliced lilies spill supernal glow,--
Which all her thought to wonder mute doth move.
Then falls upon the rapture of her soul,
Dimly some vision of Gethsemane,
Athwart the Resurrection's shining goal,
And with uplifted hand she pleads as One
Shall pray in night of darkest agony,
"This cup remove,--yet, Lord, Thy Will be done."

The Annunciati...</pre></div><div class=

Ethel Allen Murphy