What would you like to read?Search books, authors, genres, shelves, users...
Search books, authors, genres, shelves, users...Search books, authors, genres, shelves, users...
What would you like to read?Search books, authors, genres, shelves, users...
Search books, authors, genres, shelves, users...Search books, authors, genres, shelves, users...
11 books
Hezekiah Butterworth (December 22, 1839 – September 5, 1905) was an American author and poet.
It is natural to speak of hymns as "poems," indiscriminately, for they have the same structure. But a hymn is not necessarily a poem, while a poem that can be sung as a hymn is something more than a poem. Imagination makes poems; devotion makes hymns. There can be poetry without emotion, but a hymn never. A poem may argue; a hymn must not. In short to be a hymn, what is written must express spiritual feelings and desires. The music of faith, hope and charity will be somewhere in its strain.
Evening in majestic shadows fell upon the fortress' walls: Sweetly were the last bells ringing on the James and on the Charles. 'Mid the choruses of freedom two departed victors lay, One beside the blue Rivanna, one by Massachusetts Bay. He was gone, and night her sable curtain drew across the sky; Gone his soul into all nations, gone to live and not to die.
It is natural to speak of hymns as "poems," indiscriminately, for they have the same structure. But a hymn is not necessarily a poem, while a poem that can be sung as a hymn is something more than a poem. Imagination makes poems; devotion makes hymns. There can be poetry without emotion, but a hymn never. A poem may argue; a hymn must not. In short to be a hymn, what is written must express spiritual feelings and desires. The music of faith, hope and charity will be somewhere in its strain.
Evening in majestic shadows fell upon the fortress' walls: Sweetly were the last bells ringing on the James and on the Charles. 'Mid the choruses of freedom two departed victors lay, One beside the blue Rivanna, one by Massachusetts Bay. He was gone, and night her sable curtain drew across the sky; Gone his soul into all nations, gone to live and not to die.
