O Carpenter of Nazareth, Whose mother was a village maid, S… - Joyce Kilmer

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O Carpenter of Nazareth, Whose mother was a village maid, Shall we, Thy children, blow our breath In scorn on any humble trade? Have pity on our foolishness And give us eyes, that we may see Beneath the shopman's clumsy dress The splendor of humanity!

Joyce Kilmer

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About Joyce Kilmer

Alfred Joyce Kilmer (6 December 1886 – 30 July 1918) was an American journalist and poet.

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Alternative Names: Alfred Joyce Kilmer

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Percy Bysshe Shelley Alfred Tennyson William Butler Yeats Lord Byron Algernon Charles Swinburne

Additional quotes by Joyce Kilmer

If you call a gypsy a vagabond, I think you do him wrong,
For he never goes a-travelling but he takes his home along.
And the only reason a road is good, as every wanderer knows,
Is just because of the homes, the homes, the homes to which it goes.

For blows on the fort of evil That never shows a breach, For terrible life-long races To a goal no foot can reach, For reckless leaps into darkness With hands outstretched to a star, There is jubilation in Heaven Where the great dead poets are.

Love is made out of ecstasy and wonder; Love is a poignant and accustomed pain. It is a burst of Heaven-shaking thunder; It is a linnet's fluting after rain.

O Carpenter of Nazareth, Whose mother was a village maid, Shall we, Thy children, blow our breath In scorn on any humble trade? Have pity on our fool… - Joyce Kilmer

About Joyce Kilmer

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