Power poems
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FORMAT
© A. Ayyappan
Don’t cry out: ‘O! God!’
For He doesn’t have any power of hearing…
No eyes, He has, to see the suffering billions
And not even a single drop of spittle on His tongue…
Verses on Sir Joshua Reynold's Painted Window at New College, Oxford
© Thomas Warton
Reynolds, 'tis thine, from the broad window's height,
To add new lustre to religious light:
Not of its pomp to strip this ancient shrine,
But bid that pomp with purer radiance shine:
With arts unknown before, to reconcile
The willing Graces to the Gothic pile.
The Emigrants: Book II
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to the North of the Weald of Sussex. Time, an Afternoon in April, 1793.
The Emigrants: Book I
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Scene, on the Cliffs to the Eastward of the Town of
Brighthelmstone in Sussex. Time, a Morning in November, 1792.
Sonnet XLIV: Press'd by the Moon
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Press'd by the Moon, mute arbitress of tides,
While the loud equinox its power combines,
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 131. O living will that shalt endure
© Alfred Tennyson
O true and tried, so well and long,
Demand not thou a marriage lay;
In that it is thy marriage day
Is music more than any song.
Alfred Lord Tennyson - The Coming Of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.
The Comedian As The Letter C
© Wallace Stevens
379 Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
380 With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
381 No, no: veracious page on page, exact.
A Hymn Of Heavenly Beauty
© Edmund Spenser
Rapt with the rage of mine own ravish'd thought,
Through contemplation of those goodly sights,
Jubilate Agno (excerpt)
© Christopher Smart
For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
Astrophel and Stella VII: WhenNature Made her Chief Work
© Sir Philip Sidney
When Nature made her chief work, Stella's eyes,
In colour black why wrapt she beams so bright?
Astrophel and Stella
© Sir Philip Sidney
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes entendeth,
Which now my breast, surcharg'd, to musick lendeth!
To you, to you, all song of praise is due,
Only in you my song begins and endeth.
Written among the Euganean Hills North Italy
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
MANY a green isle needs must be
In the deep wide sea of Misery,
Untitled 2
© Tupac Shakur
With all this extra stressing the question I wonder is after death
After my last breath
Sonnet 55
© William Shakespeare
Not marble, nor the gilded monuments
Of princes, shall outlive this powerful rhyme;
God
© Isaac Rosenberg
In his malodorous brain what slugs and mire,
Lanthorned in his oblique eyes, guttering burned!
The Second Elegy
© Rainer Maria Rilke
If only we too could discover a pure contained
human place our own strip of fruit-bearing soil
between river and rock. For our own heart always exceeds us
as theirs did. And we can no longer follow it gazing
into images that soothe it into the godlike bodies
where measured more greatly if achieves a greater repose.
