Santa filomena poem. Santa Filomena. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) poem 2022-12-28
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Santa Filomena is a popular poem written by the 19th century Italian poet, Luigi Tansillo. The poem tells the story of Santa Filomena, a young Christian martyr who was martyred during the reign of Emperor Diocletian.
According to legend, Filomena was a beautiful and virtuous young woman who lived in the city of Rome. She was known for her kindness and generosity, and was loved by all who knew her. One day, she caught the eye of the Roman Emperor, Diocletian, who was known for his cruelty and persecution of Christians. Despite Filomena's protests, Diocletian ordered her to be brought before him and demanded that she renounce her faith and worship the Roman gods.
Filomena refused, declaring that she would rather die than betray her faith. Enraged, Diocletian ordered her to be tortured and executed. Filomena was subjected to numerous horrors, including being burned at the stake, but she remained steadfast in her faith. In the end, she was beheaded, and her body was left to rot in a prison cell.
Despite her suffering and death, Filomena's faith and courage inspired many others to follow in her footsteps. She became a symbol of hope and strength for Christians everywhere, and her memory was revered as a saint.
Tansillo's poem tells Filomena's story in a series of beautiful and evocative verses. Through his words, he captures the essence of Filomena's character, her unwavering faith, and her enduring spirit. The poem is a testament to the power of faith and the human spirit to overcome even the most difficult of challenges.
In conclusion, Santa Filomena is a timeless and inspiring poem that celebrates the life and legacy of a true hero. It is a powerful reminder of the strength and resilience of the human spirit, and the enduring power of faith. So, it's a must-read for all those who seek inspiration and guidance in their lives.
Santa Filomena · Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on blog.sigma-systems.com
A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. On England's annals, through the long Hereafter of her speech and song, That light its rays shall cast From portals of the past. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,— The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. As if a door in heaven should be Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent.
Santa Filomena. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, 15 The starved and frozen camp,— The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,-- The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. As if a Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent.
Poem: Santa Filomena by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
As if a door in heaven should be Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent. Honor to those whose words or deeds thus help us in our daily needs, and by their overflow raise us from what is low! Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. As if a door in heaven should be Opened, and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent. As if a door in heaven should be Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore.
And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. As if a door in heaven should be Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent. Copyrighted poems are the property of the copyright holders. Santa Filomena Whene'eranobledeediswrought, Whene'erisspokenanoblethought, Ourhearts,ingladsurprise, Tohigherlevelsrise. Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Thus thought I, as by Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and The wounded from the In dreary hospitals of The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. The tidal wave of deeper souls into our inmost being rolls, and lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.
All poems are shown free of charge for educational purposes only in accordance with fair use guidelines. A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. As if a door in heaven should be opened and then closed suddenly, the vision came and went; the light shone and was spent. A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. A lady with a lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.
Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is Our hearts, in glad surprise, To The Into our And Out of all Honor to Thus help us in our And by Raise us from what is low! Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. Whene'er a noble deed is wrought, Whene'er is spoken a noble thought, Our hearts, in To higher levels The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, 10 And by their overflow Raise us from what is low.
The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. The tidal wave of deeper souls 5 Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. On England's annals, through the Hereafter of her That light its rays shall cast From portals of the past. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls.
Santa Filomena. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) poem
A lady with a lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. A Lady with a Lamp shall stand In the great history of the land, A noble type of good, Heroic womanhood. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, 25 The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. A Lady with a Lamp shall In the great A noble type of Heroic womanhood.
Santa Filomena. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes. Honor to those whose words or deeds Thus help us in our daily needs, And by their overflow Raise us from what is low! And slow, as in a dream of bliss, The speechless sufferer turns to kiss Her shadow, as it falls Upon the darkening walls. Thus thought I, as by night I read Of the great army of the dead, The trenches cold and damp, The starved and frozen camp,-- The wounded from the battle-plain, In dreary hospitals of pain, The cheerless corridors, The cold and stony floors. And slow, as in a The speechless sufferer turns to Her Upon the darkening walls. The tidal wave of deeper souls Into our inmost being rolls, And lifts us unawares Out of all meaner cares.
In that house of misery a lady with a lamp I see Pass through the glimmering gloom, and flit from room to room. . On England's annals, through the long Hereafter of her speech and song, That light its rays shall cast From portals of the past. Nor even shall be wanting here The palm, the lily, and the spear, The symbols that of yore Saint Filomena bore. As if a door in heaven should be Opened and then closed suddenly, The vision came and went, The light shone and was spent. On England's annals, through the long Hereafter of her speech and song, That light its rays shall cast From portals of the past. On England's annals, through the long Hereafter of her speech and song, That light its rays shall cast From portals of the past.
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