Power poems
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In The Enchanted Tower
© Edith Nesbit
THE waves in thunderous menace break
Upon the rocks below my tower,
And none will dare the Sea-king's power
And venture shipwreck for my sake.
Upon The Thief
© John Bunyan
The thief, when he doth steal, thinks he doth gain;
Yet then the greatest loss he doth sustain.
The Scythians
© Alexander Blok
You are but millions. Our unnumbered nations
Are as the sands upon the sounding shore.
We are the Scythians! We are the slit-eyed Asians!
Try to wage war with us-you'll try no more!
No coward soul is mine
© Emily Jane Brontë
No coward soul is mine,
No trembler in the world's storm-troubled sphere :
Penuel
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
NEAR Jabbok Ford, endued with sacred might,
The patriarch strove with one that silent came,
Obscurely limned against the twilight flame--
Strove thro' slow watches of the marvellous night!
Expostulation
© Frances Anne Kemble
What though the sun must set, and darkness come,
Shall we turn coldly from the blessèd light,
Paracelsus: Part III: Paracelsus
© Robert Browning
Paracelsus.
Heap logs and let the blaze laugh out!
Satire II
© John Donne
Sir; though (I thanke God for it) I do hate
Perfectly all this towne, yet there's one state
God In Growth
© George MacDonald
I said, I will arise and work some thing,
Nor be content with growth, but cause to grow
Idyll XXIV. The Infant Heracles
© Theocritus
"Sleep, children mine, a light luxurious sleep,
Brother with brother: sleep, my boys, my life:
Blest in your slumber, in your waking blest!"
The Widow Of Crescentius : Part II.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Hast thou a scene that is not spread
With records of thy glory fled?
Ode On The Istallation of the Duke of Devonshire
© Charles Kingsley
Hence a while, severer Muses;
Spare your slaves till drear October.
Malham Cove
© Robert Laurence Binyon
There is threat in the wind, and a murmur
of water that swells
Swift in the hollow: about me
a shadow is thrown;
I Grieved For Buonaparte
© William Wordsworth
I GRIEVED for Buonaparte, with a vain
And an unthinking grief! The tenderest mood
Of that Man's mind--what can it be? what food
Fed his first hopes? what knowledge could 'he' gain?
Death Of A Favorite Chamber Maid
© George Moses Horton
O death, thy power I own,
Whose mission was to rush,
And snatch the rose, so quickly blown,
Down from its native bush;
The flower of beauty doom'd to pine,
Ascends from this to worlds divine.
The Revenge - A Ballad of the Fleet
© Alfred Tennyson
Then spake Sir Richard Grenville: 'I know you are no coward;
You fly them for a moment to fight with them again.
But I've ninety men and more that are lying sick ashore.
I should count myself the coward if I left them, my Lord Howard,
To these Inquisition dogs and the devildoms of Spain.'
Tale VIII
© George Crabbe
grace?" -
"He knew she hated every watering-place."
"The town?"--"What! now 'twas empty, joyless,
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - February
© George MacDonald
1.
I TO myself have neither power nor worth,
