Power poems

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Memory

© Louisa Stuart Costello

The high grass waves, with varied hues
Of wild flowers glowing 'mid the green;
The woods have caught a deeper shade,
And darkly skirt the distant scene.

The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7

© Publius Vergilius Maro

AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,

Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;

Sing not to me a song of beauty bright,
Nor festive scenes of dazzling light;
Nor of gorgeous pageant in palace hall
Begemmed with many a coronal;
But sing to me my memory's care -
The misspent hours fled where - oh where?

Song I

© George Wither

Lordly gallants! tell me this

(Though my safe content you weigh not),

Don Juan: Canto The Second

© George Gordon Byron

Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,

Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,

To John Milton

© John Clare

Poet of mighty power, I fain
Would court the muse that honoured thee,
And, like Elisha's spirit, gain
A part of thy intensity;
And share the mantle which she flung
Around thee, when thy lyre was strung.

While Yet These Tears

© Louise Labe

While yet these tears have power to flow

For hours for ever past away;

Invocation

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veil'd from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer. ~ WORDSWORTH.

A Bushranger

© Kenneth Slessor

Jackey Jackey gallops on a horse like a swallow
Where the carbines bark and the blackboys hollo.
When the traps give chase (may the devil take his power!)
He can ride ten mile in a quarter of an hour

The Cambridge Churchyard

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

Our ancient church! its lowly tower,

Beneath the loftier spire,

Woman On The Field Of Battle

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Where hath not a woman stood,
Strong in affection's might? a reed, upborne
By an o'er mastering current!

Roman Ruins

© Richard Monckton Milnes

How could Rome live so long, and now be dead?
How came this waste and wilderness of stones?
How shows the orbèd monster, so long fed
On martyr--blood, his bare and crumbling bones?

The Call

Under what spell are we debased
By fears for our inviolate Isle,
Whose record is of dangers faced
And flung to heel with even smile?
Is it a vaster force, a subtler guile?

Hymn XXVI: I Thirst, Thou Wounded Lamb of God

I thirst, thou wounded Lamb of God,
To wash me in thy cleansing blood,
To dwell within thy wounds; then pain
Is sweet, and life or death is gain.

The Wife Of Brittany

TRUTH wed to beauty in an antique tale,
Sweet-voiced like some immortal nightingale,
Trills the clear burden of her passsionate lay,
As fresh, as fair as wonderful to-day
As when the music of her balmy tongue
Ravished the first warm hearts for whom she sung.

The Child Of The Islands - Conclusion

I.
MY lay is ended! closed the circling year,
From Spring's first dawn to Winter's darkling night;
The moan of sorrow, and the sigh of fear,

Daniel. A Sacred Drama

© Hannah More

Persons of the Drama.
Darius, King of Media and Babylon.
Pharnaces, Courtier, Enemy to Daniel.
Soranus, dido.
Araspes, A Young Median Lord, Friend and Convert to Daniel
Daniel.