Power poems
/ page 163 of 324 /Faith
© Nikola Vaptsarov
Pray, how will you smash it?
With bullets?
No! That is useless!
Stop! It is not worth it!
Astrophel And Stella-Fourth Song
© Sir Philip Sidney
Only joy, now here you are,
Fit to hear and ease my care:
Let my whispering voice obtain
Sweet reward for sharpest pain.
Take me to thee, and thee to me.
"No, no, no, no, my dear, let be."
521. Inscription for an Alter of Independence
© Robert Burns
THOU of an independent mind,
With soul resolvd, with soul resignd;
Prepard Powers proudest frown to brave,
Who wilt not be, nor have a slave;
The Writer's Hand
© David Gascoyne
What is your want, perpetual invalid
Whose fist is always beating on my breast's
351. Second Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry
© Robert Burns
Criticsappalld, I venture on the name;
Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame:
Bloody dissectors, worse than ten Monroes;
He hacks to teach, they mangle to expose:
129. The Calf
© Robert Burns
RIGHT, sir! your text Ill prove it true,
Tho heretics may laugh;
For instance, theres yourself just now,
God knows, an unco calf.
157. Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh
© Robert Burns
WHEN, by a generous Publics kind acclaim,
That dearest meed is grantedhonest fame;
Waen here your favour is the actors lot,
Nor even the man in private life forgot;
528. SongOn Chloris being ill
© Robert Burns
ChorusLong, long the night,
Heavy comes the morrow
While my souls delight
Is on her bed of sorrow.
201. Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787
© Robert Burns
AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams,
Whom kingdoms on this day should hail;
An inmate in the casual shed,
On transient pitys bounty fed,
203. Sylvander to Clarinda
© Robert Burns
WHEN dear Clarinda, 1 matchless fair,
First struck Sylvanders rapturd view,
He gazd, he listened to despair,
Alas! twas all he dared to do.
224. Epistle to Hugh Parker
© Robert Burns
IN this strange land, this uncouth clime,
A land unknown to prose or rhyme;
Where words neer crosst the Muses heckles,
Nor limpit in poetic shackles:
99. To a Louse
© Robert Burns
O wad some Power the giftie gie us
To see oursels as ithers see us!
It wad frae mony a blunder free us,
An foolish notion:
What airs in dress an gait wad leae us,
An evn devotion!
92. Suppressed Stanzas of The Vision
© Robert Burns
The owner of a pleasant spot,
Near and sandy wilds, I last did note; 14
A heart too warm, a pulse too hot
At times, oerran:
But large in evry feature wrote,
Appeard the Man.
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
The Kingdom Within
© Sri Aurobindo
Wider behind than the vast universe
Our spirit scans the drama and the stir,
A peace, a light, an ecstasy, a power
Waiting at the end of blindness and the curse
That veils it from its ignorant minister,
The grandeur of its free eternal hour.
91. The Vision
© Robert Burns
And wear thou thisshe solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head:
The polishd leaves and berries red
Did rustling play;
And, like a passing thought, she fled
In light away. [To Mrs. Stewart of Stair Burns presented a manuscript copy of the Vision. That copy embraces about twenty stanzas at the end of Duan First, which he cancelled when he came to print the price in his Kilmarnock volume. Seven of these he restored in printing his second edition, as noted on p. 174. The following are the verses which he left unpublished.]
Finality
© Charles Harpur
A HEAVY and desolate sense of life
Is all the Past makes mineand still
A cold contempt of Fortunes strife,
Despite the dread
Of want of bread,
Numbs, clogs like ice, my weary will.
310. Tam o Shanter: A Tale
© Robert Burns
This truth fand honest TAM O SHANTER,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter:
(Auld Ayr, wham neer a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses).
228. To Alex. Cunningham, Esq., Writer, Edinburgh
© Robert Burns
MY godlike friendnay, do not stare,
You think the phrase is odd-like;
But God is love, the saints declare,
Then surely thou art god-like.