“And unto Adam He said…. cursed is the ground for thy sake. Thorns…. shall bring it forth.”
“And the soldiers platted a crown of thorns, and put it on His head.”
In bitterest sorrow did the ground bring forth
Its fatal seed. Thine eye beheld the birth-
Beheld the travail of accursèd earth;
E’en then, O Lord! in greater love than wrath!
Thou sawest the sin that none could gather out-
The vineyard cover’d with the thorn and briar;
Thou sawest the fair land ready for the fire-
And still Thy pity compass’d it about.
Thou, O most merciful! didst spare the brand;
Thou didst redeem the Paradise of God;
The thorns were rooted from the stubborn sod.
In pain and toil, by Thine own blessèd hand.
How was our path to heaven o’er grown with sin-
Bramble, and thistle, and the poisonous weed!
Though hearts should break, and patient feet should bleed,
And strive and struggle, none could walk therein.
And Thou didst call us when we went astray-
Didst make our high road straight for evermore;
And, for our guidance, passèd on before,
Leaving Thy shining footprints in the way.
Still do the wild thorns hedge us round about;
Still grow the thistles from the ancient stock;
Still trails the bramble on the blasted rock-
But we can dig, and Thou wilt pull them out.
Ay, we can work-oh, help us in the strife!
Labour is sweet, for Thou dost share it now.
And we shall eat, in sweat of furrow’d brow,
Not earthly food, but Thine own Bread of Life.
And there are thorns of suffering left behind-
Sorrow and loss-that weigh our courage down;
But, ah! we know Thy sacramental crown
Was made of sin and sorrow, intertwined.
Give us of Thy sweet patience, Lord, we pray.
We would not spurn them with rebellious kicks,
Nor fret and strive, for Thou canst feel the pricks;
We too would wear them as a crown for aye.
We would put on Thy likeness-we, the least
And most unworthy. Ay, each piercing thorn,
In Thy name patiently and meekly worn,
Shall bear a blossom for the bridal feast.
Look down, O Brother with the yearning eyes!
Behold us kneeling at Thy bitter cross!
Grant us a share in all Thine earthly loss,
That we may share Thy gain in Paradise.
O weary Head! we see Thee drooping now
Beneath that diadem of mortal pain:
We see Thee sprinkled with the scarlet stain;-
Drop down the chrism on our polluted brow!
O sacred Head!-pale, beautiful, benign-
On our heads be Thy precious blood, we cry!
Lo, the destroying angel, passing by,
Shall spare to smite us-reverencing the sign.

A few random poems:
- Василий Жуковский – Голос с того света
- Яков Полонский – На Женевском озере
- Владимир Маяковский – Помни о дне красной казармы! (РОСТА № 732)
- A winning lot
- Happiness by Vishü Rita Krocha
- The Last Breath of a Ship by Tri Tran
- VOICES by Satish Verma
- Василий Жуковский – Тоска по милом
- The Helmet by Philip Levine
- Exodus Of The Heart by Wilmer Escovar
- William Stanley Merwin – William Stanley Merwin
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Борьба
- The Song Of The Jellicles by T. S. Eliot
- The Brave and the Love Flute by Tomás Ó Cárthaigh
- Eclogue:–The Veäiries by William Barnes
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- I Heard You, Solemn-sweet Pipes of the Organ. by Walt Whitman
- I hear it was Charged against Me. by Walt Whitman
- I Hear America Singing. by Walt Whitman
- I Dream’d in a Dream. by Walt Whitman
- I am He that Aches with Love. by Walt Whitman
- Hush’d be the Camps To-day. by Walt Whitman
- How Solemn as One by One. by Walt Whitman
- Hours Continuing Long. by Walt Whitman
- Here the Frailest Leaves of Me. by Walt Whitman
- Here, Sailor. by Walt Whitman
- Hast Never Come to Thee an Hour. by Walt Whitman
- Great are the Myths. by Walt Whitman
- Gods. by Walt Whitman
- Gliding Over All. by Walt Whitman
- Give me the Splendid, Silent Sun. by Walt Whitman
- Germs. by Walt Whitman
- Full of Life, Now. by Walt Whitman
- From Paumanok Starting. by Walt Whitman
- From My Last Years. by Walt Whitman
- From Far Dakota’s Cañons. by Walt Whitman
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Ada Cambridge (1844 – 1926), also known as Ada Cross, was an English-born Australian author and poetess. She wrote more than 25 works of fiction, three volumes of poetry and two autobiographical works.