Power poems
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The Indian Cupid
© Louisa Stuart Costello
Often and long, on the summer sea,
In the moonlight have I watched for thee
When the glittering beam was downward thrown,
And each wave with a crest of diamond shone.
I have seen the thin clouds sail along,
And I raised, to welcome thee, many a song;
An Epistle To Fleetwood Shephard, Esq. Burleigh, May 14, 1689
© Matthew Prior
Sir,
As once a twelvemonth to the priest,
Pharsalia - Book III: Massilia
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Phoenicians first (if story be believed)
Dared to record in characters; for yet
Papyrus was not fashioned, and the priests
Of Memphis, carving symbols upon walls
Of mystic sense (in shape of beast or fowl)
Preserved the secrets of their magic art.
Worship
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Pagan's myths through marble lips are spoken,
And ghosts of old Beliefs still flit and moan
Round fane and altar overthrown and broken,
O'er tree-grown barrow and gray ring of stone.
The Visionary Portrait
© Caroline Norton
Therefore he thought of one who might
For ever in his presence stay;
Whose dream should be of him by night,
Whose smile should be for him by day;
And the sweet vision, vague and far,
Rose on his fancy like a star.
The Cooling Tower
© Amy Clampitt
By night a laddered diagram
seen from the windows of this
bedroom townrayflowcrs of dread
ascending and descending
identifies the cooling tower,
insomniac vision
From 'The Hills Of Life'
© Albert Durrant Watson
ERE yet the dawn
Pushed rosy fingers up the arch of day
And smiled its promise to the voiceless prime,
Love sat and patterns wove at life's great loom.
A Congratulatory Poem
© Aphra Behn
All that is Wit, all that is Eloquence.
The Births of finest Thought and Noblest Sense,
Easie and Natural from your Language break,
Beauergards Appeal
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YEA! since the need is bitter,
Take down those sacred bells,
Whose music speaks of hallowed joys,
And passionate farewells!
Ode On The Death Of A Lady, Who Lived One Hundred Years, And Died On Her Birthday, 1728 (Translation
© William Cowper
Ancient dame, how wide and vast
To a race like ours appears,
Rounded to an orb at last,
All thy multitude of years!
The Eve Of Election
© John Greenleaf Whittier
FROM gold to gray
Our mild sweet day
Of Indian Summer fades too soon;
But tenderly
Magnolia Gardens
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YES, found at last,--the earthly paradise!
Here by slow currents of the silvery stream
It smiles, a shining wonder, a fair dream,
A matchless miracle to mortal eyes:
The Vain King
© Henry Van Dyke
And still, along the reaches of the stream,
The vain King-fisher flits, an azure gleam, --
You see his ruby crest, you hear his jealous scream.
A Poem Sacred to the Memory of Sir Isaac Newton
© James Thomson
And what new wonders can ye show your guest!
Who, while on this dim spot, where mortals toil
Clouded in dust, from motion's simple laws,
Could trace the secret hand of Providence,
Wide-working through this universal frame.
The Cathedral
© James Russell Lowell
Far through the memory shines a happy day,
Cloudless of care, down-shod to every sense,
Anacreontic
© William Shenstone
'Twas in a cool Aonian glade,
The wanton Cupid, spent with toil,
Had sought refreshment from the shade,
And stretch'd him on the mossy soil.
On The Receipt Of My Mother's Picture Out Of Norfolk
© William Cowper
Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thinethy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me
To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias
© Alfred Tennyson
. OLD FITZ, who from your suburb grange,
Where once I tarried for a while,
