Power poems
/ page 215 of 324 /Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book III - Rajasuya - (The Imperial Sacrifice)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
A curious incident followed the bridal of Draupadi. The five sons of
Pandu returned with her to the potter's house, where they were
Hymn XXV: Stupendous Love of God Most High!
© Charles Wesley
Stupendous love of God most high!
He comes to meet us from the sky
In mildest majesty;
Full of unutterable grace,
He calls the weary burdened race,
"Come all for help to me."
At The Making Of Man
© Bliss William Carman
First all the host of Raphael
In liveries of gold,
Lifted the chorus on whose rhythm
The spinning spheres are rolled,
The Seraphs of the morning calm
Whose hearts are never cold.
Before Actium.
© Robert Crawford
Life is up and takes the morning;
Why should love still lie abed?
Lo! the charms of slumber scorning,
Tramps the troop that must be led.
Chalkey Hall
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Oh, once again revive, while on my ear
The cry of Gain
And low hoarse hum of Traffic die away,
Ye blessed memories of my early day
Like sere grass wet with rain!
Birds
© Robinson Jeffers
The fierce musical cries of a couple of sparrowhawks hunting
on the headland,
Written In The Mountains Of The Tyrol
© Richard Monckton Milnes
A Heart the world of men had bound and sealed
With shameful stamp and miserable chain,
Here, mother Nature, is to Thee revealed,
Open to Thee; oh! be it not in vain.
A Dreamer Of Dreams
© Madison Julius Cawein
He lived beyond men, and so stood
Admitted to the brotherhood
Hudibras - The Lady's Answer to The Knight
© Samuel Butler
We are your guardians, that increase
Or waste your fortunes how we please;
And, as you humour us, can deal
In all your matters, ill or well.
Lines Written In Windsor Park
© Charles Churchill
These verses appeared with Churchill's name to them in the London
Magazine for , and there is no reason to doubt their being
genuine.
The Young Princess -- A Ballad Of Old Laws Of Love
© George Meredith
When the South sang like a nightingale
Above a bower in May,
The training of Love's vine of flame
Was writ in laws, for lord and dame
To say their yea and nay.
Lines Written In August
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
The day of tumult, strife, defeat, was o'er;
Worn out with toil, and noise, and scorn, and spleen,
I slumbered, and in slumber saw once more
A room in an old mansion, long unseen.
When Sorrow Comes
© Edgar Albert Guest
When sorrow comes, as come it must,
In God a man must place his trust.
There is no power in mortal speech
The anguish of his soul to reach,
No voice, however sweet and low,
Can comfort him or ease the blow.
The Tear
© Heinrich Heine
The latest light of evening
Upon the waters shone,
And still we sat in the lonely hut,
In silence and alone.
Woodmanship
© George Gascoigne
My worthy Lord, I pray you wonder not
To see your woodman shoot so oft awry,
Elegy XVII. He Indulges the Suggestions of Spleen.-- An Elegy to the Winds
© William Shenstone
AEole! namque tibi divûm Pater atque hominum rex,
Et mulcere dedit mentes et tollere vento.
Imitation.
O AEolus! to thee the Sire supreme
Of gods and men the mighty power bequeath'd
To rouse or to assuage the human mind.
Elegy III
© Henry James Pye
The dewy morn her saffron mantle spreads
High o'er the brow of yonder eastern hill;
Repining
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
She sat alway thro' the long day
Spinning the weary thread away;
And ever said in undertone:
'Come, that I be no more alone.'