Power poems
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Eros
© John Hall Wheelock
Surely thy body is thy mind,
For in thy face is nought to find,
Only thy soft unchristen’d smile,
That shadows neither love nor guile,
But shameless will and power immense,
In secret sensuous innocence.
Epitaph
© Katherine Philips
On her Son H.P. at St. Syths Church where her body also lies interred
What on Earth deserves our trust?
To A Wounded Bird
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Thou shalt feel no more the wind on thy wing,
Nor float on the breath of the breeze;
OEnone
© Alfred Tennyson
"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
He smiled, and opening out his milk-white palm
Disclosed a fruit of pure Hesperian gold,
That smelt ambrosially, and while I look'd
And listen'd, the full-flowing river of speech
Came down upon my heart.
Canto XLIX: For the Seven Lakes
© Ezra Pound
For the seven lakes, and by no man these verses:
Rain; empty river; a voyage,
Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain in the twilight
Under the cabin roof was one lantern.
The reeds are heavy; bent;
and the bamboos speak as if weeping.
T o W.H.H.
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
How like a mighty picture, tint by tint,
This marvellous world is opening to thy view!
Wonders of earth and heaven; shapes bright and new,
Strength, radiance, beauty, and all things that hint
The Troubadour. Canto 1
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
There is a light step passing by
Like the distant sound of music's sigh;
It is that fair and gentle child,
Whose sweetness has so oft beguiled,
Like sunlight on a stormy day,
His almost sullenness away.
Literary
© Kenneth Fearing
I sing of simple people and the hardier virtues, by Associated Stuffed Shirts & Company, Incorporated, 358 West 42d Street, New York, brochure enclosed
of Christ on the Cross, by a visitor to Calvary, first class
art deals with eternal, not current verities, revised from last week's Sunday supplement
guess what we mean, in The Literary System, and a thousand noble answers to a thousand empty questions, by a patriot who needs the dough.
Division Of An Estate
© George Moses Horton
It well bespeaks a man beheaded, quite
Divested of the laurel robe of life,
When every member struggles for its base,
The head; the power of order now recedes,
To Ladies Of A Certain Age
© John Trumbull
Ye ancient Maids, who ne'er must prove
The early joys of youth and love,
Fragment: Yes! All Is Past
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Ah! no, I cannot shed the pitying tear,
This breast is cold, this heart can feel no more--
But I can rest me on thy chilling bier,
Can shriek in horror to the tempest's roar.'
Michael: A Pastoral Poem
© William Wordsworth
Thus in his Father's sight the Boy grew up:
And now, when he had reached his eighteenth year,
He was his comfort and his daily hope.
Feel Me
© May Swenson
“Feel me to do right,” our father said on his deathbed.
We did not quite know—in fact, not at all—what he meant.
Elegiac Stanzas In Memory Of My Brother, John Commander Of The E. I. Companys Ship The Earl Of Aber
© William Wordsworth
I
THE Sheep-boy whistled loud, and lo!
That instant, startled by the shock,
The Buzzard mounted from the rock
Elegiac Stanzas Suggested By A Picture Of Peele Castle
© William Wordsworth
Ah! then , if mine had been the Painter's hand,
To express what then I saw; and add the gleam,
The light that never was, on sea or land,
The consecration, and the Poet's dream;
I Am an Atheist Who Says His Prayers
© Ishmael Reed
I am an atheist who says his prayers.
I am an anarchist, and a full professor at that. I take the loyalty oath.
