Power poems
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The Sundial
© Thomas Love Peacock
The ivy o'er the mouldering wall
Spreads like a tree, the growth of years:
Sonnet I
© Mikolaj Sep Szarzynski
Alas, hardpressed the whirling orbs
And swift Titan hie fleeting hours,
And cleave delights with woe avid
Death might - fast on us, she strides!
The Irish Avatar
© George Gordon Byron
Ere the daughter of Brunswick is cold in her grave,
And her ashes still float to their home o'er the tide,
Lo! George the triumphant speeds over the wave,
To the long-cherish'd isle which he loved like his--bride!
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 5.
© William Cowper
Adam. Restrain, restrain thy step
Whoe'er thou art, nor with thy songs inveigle
Him, who has only cause for ceaseless tears.
The Contented Man's Morice
© George Wither
False world, thy malice I espie
With what thou hast designed;
And therein with thee to comply,
Who likewise are combined:
But, do thy worst, I thee defie,
Thy mischiefs are confined.
Pauline
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
To die for what we love! Oh! there is power
In the true heart, and pride, and joy, for this;
It is to live without the vanish'd light
That strength is needed. -Anon
Upon The Translation Of The Psalms By Sir Philip Sidney And The Countess Of Pembroke, His Sister
© John Donne
ETERNAL Godfor whom who ever dare
Seek new expressions, do the circle square,
Queen Mab: Part V.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'Thus do the generations of the earth
Go to the grave and issue from the womb,
Among the Hills
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Through Sandwich notch the west-wind sang
Good morrow to the cotter;
And once again Chocoruas horn
Of shadow pierced the water.
The Minstrel
© Arthur Henry Adams
An Incident in One Act.
PERSONS. THE KING, THE QUEEN, EARL ATHULF, THE MINSTREL.
Heralds, Pages, Men-at-Arms, Sentries. TIME: THE PAST.
SCENE:
To be aliveis Power
© Emily Dickinson
To be aliveis Power
Existencein itself
Without a further function
OmnipotenceEnough
The Farmer's Boy - Summer
© Robert Bloomfield
Here, midst the boldest triumphs of her worth,
NATURE herself invites the REAPERS forth;
Dares the keen sickle from its twelvemonth's rest,
And gives that ardour which in every breast
From infancy to age alike appears,
When the first sheaf its plumy top uprears.
To The Countess Of Exeter. Playing On The Lute
© Matthew Prior
What charms you have, from what high race you sprung,
Have been the pleasing subjects of my song:
Translation Of Part Of The First Book Of The Aeneid
© William Wordsworth
THE EDITORS OF THE PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM
BUT Cytherea, studious to invent
Edwin and Eltruda, a Legendary Tale
© Helen Maria Williams
Where the pure Derwent's waters glide
Along their mossy bed,
Close by the river's verdant side,
A castle rear'd its head.
A Shamrock From The Irish Shore
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
O postman! speed thy tardy gait-
Go quicker round from door to door;
The Khalif And The Arab
© Madison Julius Cawein
Provoked, astonished, wrinkled angrily,
Hissed Hisham, "Slave! thou know'st me not I see!"
Calmly the youth, "Aye, verily I know,
O mannerless! thy tongue hath told me so,
Thy tongue commanding ere it spake me _peace_--
Soon art thou known, nor late may knowledge cease."
Tale XIII
© George Crabbe
hall,
Sires, sons, and sons of sons, were buried all,
She then abounded, and had wealth to spare
For softening grief she once was doom'd to share;
Thus train'd in misery's school, and taught to
