John Keble

(25 April 1792 – 29 March 1866 / Fairford, Gloucestershire)

John Keble Poems

1. The Restoration Of The Royal Family 1/1/2004
2. Sixth Sunday After Epiphany 1/1/2004
3. Trinity Sunday 1/1/2004
4. The Conversion Of St. Paul 1/1/2004
5. Second Sunday After Christmas 1/1/2004
6. St. Bartholomew 1/1/2004
7. St. John Baptist's Day 1/1/2004
8. St. Luke 1/1/2004
9. Second Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
10. Twenty-Third Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
11. Tuesday In Whitsun-Week 1/1/2004
12. First Sunday In Lent 1/1/2004
13. Twelfth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
14. Twenty-First Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
15. Holy Baptism 1/1/2004
16. Fourth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
17. Matrimony 1/1/2004
18. Fourth Sunday After Epiphany 1/1/2004
19. Second Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
20. St. Matthew 1/1/2004
21. Monday In Easter Week 1/1/2004
22. Monday In Whitsun-Week 1/1/2004
23. St. Stephens Day 1/1/2004
24. St. Philip And St. James 1/1/2004
25. Twenty-Fifth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
26. King Charles The Martyr 1/3/2003
27. Third Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
28. Fourteenth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
29. Fourth Sunday After Easter 1/1/2004
30. Monday Before Easter 1/1/2004
31. Ninth Sunday After Trinity 1/1/2004
32. St. Thomas' Day 1/1/2004
33. Holy Communion 1/1/2004
34. Sunday After Ascension 1/1/2004
35. The Accession 1/1/2004
36. Sunday Next Before Advent 1/1/2004
37. The Epiphany 1/1/2004
38. Third Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
39. Fourth Sunday In Advent 1/1/2004
40. Tuesday In Easter Week 1/1/2004
Best Poem of John Keble

Blest Are The Pure In Heart

Blest are the pure in heart,
For they shall see our God;
The secret of the Lord is theirs;
Their soul is Christ’s abode.

The Lord, Who left the heavens
Our life and peace to bring,
To dwell in lowliness with men
Their Pattern and their King.

Still to the lowly soul
He doth Himself impart;
And for His dwelling and His throne
Chooseth the pure in heart.

Lord, we Thy presence seek;
May ours this blessing be;
Give us a pure and lowly heart,
A temple meet for Thee.

Read the full of Blest Are The Pure In Heart

Fourth Sunday In Advent

Of the bright things in earth and air
How little can the heart embrace!
Soft shades and gleaming lights are there -
I know it well, but cannot trace.

Mine eye unworthy seems to read
One page of Nature's beauteous book;
It lies before me, fair outspread -
I only cast a wishful look.

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