Power poems
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A Song Of Harvest
© John Greenleaf Whittier
This day, two hundred years ago,
The wild grape by the river's side,
And tasteless groundnut trailing low,
The table of the woods supplied.
To The Memory Of Heber
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
If it be sad to speak of treasures gone,
Of sainted genius call'd too soon away,
Of light, from this world taken, while it shone
Yet kindling onward to the perfect day;
How shall our grief, if mournful these things be,
Flow forth, oh, Thou of many gifts! for thee?
Wind At Midnight
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Naked night; black elms, pallid and streaming sky!
Alone with the passion of the Wind,
In a hollow of stormy sound lost and alone am I,
On beaten earth a lost, unmated mind,
Easter
© Edgar Albert Guest
OUT of the darkness and shadow of death,
Out of the anguish that wells from the tomb,
Reflections
© George Crabbe
Beware then, Age, that what was won,
If life's past labours, studies, views,
Be lost not, now the labour's done,
When all thy part is,--not to lose:
When thou canst toil or gain no more,
Destroy not what was gain'd before.
Song. Despair
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Ask not the pallid stranger's woe,
With beating heart and throbbing breast,
Whose step is faltering, weak, and slow,
As though the body needed rest.--
Upon The Disobedient Child
© John Bunyan
Children become, while little, our delights!
When they grow bigger, they begin to fright's.
Sonnet XXV. The Seceders 2.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
YET what were love, and what were toil and thought,
And what were life, bereft of Poesy?
Who lingers in a garden where the bee
By no rich beds of fragrant flowers is caught
The Unattainable
© Madison Julius Cawein
Mark thou! a shadow crowned with fire of hell.
Man holds her in his heart as night doth hold
The moonlight memories of day's dead gold;
Or as a winter-withered asphodel
In its dead loveliness holds scents of old.
And looking on her, lo, he thinks 'tis well.
Sonnet XLI. To Tranquility
© Charlotte Turner Smith
IN this tumultuous sphere, for thee unfit,
How seldom art thou found--Tranquillity!
Unless 'tis when with mild and downcast eye
By the low cradles thou delight'st to sit
The Eagle And The Dove
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
IN search of prey once raised his pinions
An eaglet;
Upon The Punishment Of Death
© William Wordsworth
YE brood of conscience--Spectres! that frequent
The bad Man's restless walk, and haunt his bed--
Pharsalia - Book VIII: Death Of Pompeius
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Hard the task imposed;
Yet doffed his robe, and swift obeyed, the king
Wrapped in a servant's mantle. If a Prince
For safety play the boor, then happier, sure,
The peasant's lot than lordship of the world.
Lead, Kindly Light
© John Henry Newman
Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,--
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene,--one step enough for me.
Anhelli - Chapter 6
© Juliusz Slowacki
For he knew not at all that there was a new generation in Poland,
and new knights and new martyrs ;
and he did not wish to know of it, being a man of the past.
When the Evening Star Went Down
© Henry Clay Work
They sleep in a fathomless grave,
The guest and the mariner brave;
They pillow their heads on coral beds,
Beneath the blue ocean waves,
Beneath the blue ocean waves.
The Travellers In Haste;
© Helen Maria Williams
ADDRESSED TO
THOMAS CLARKSON, ESQ.
IN 1814,
WHEN MANY ENGLISH ARRIVED AT PARIS, BUT
REMAINED A VERY SHORT TIME.
The Wonder-Working Magician - Act I
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
TO THE MEMORY OF
SHELLEY,
WHOSE ADMIRATION FOR
"THE LIGHT AND ODOUR OF THE FLOWERY AND STARRY AUTOS"
IS THE HIGHEST TRIBUTE TO THE BEAUTY OF
CALDERON'S POETRY,
