Lord, I confesse, that Thou alone art able To purifie this my Augean stable: Be the Seas water, and the Land all Sope, Yet if Thy Bloud not wash me, there's no hope. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PUMPKIN by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 34. FAIRY LAND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) VERSES TO THE MEMORY OF SARAH CANDLER by BERNARD BARTON ECHOES OF SPRING: 3 by MATHILDE BLIND TO ROBERT CALVERLEY TREVELYAN & ELIZABETH TREVELYAN by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE STORM by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH THE FALLEN by JOHN VANCE CHENEY |