Power poems
/ page 274 of 324 /
An Ode To Mr. Howard
© Matthew Prior
Dear Howard, from the soft assaults of love
Poets and painters never are secure;
Can I untouch'd the fair one's passions move,
Or thou draw beauty, and not feel its power?
Monimia. An Ode
© John Logan
In weeds of sorrow wildly 'dight,
Alone beneath the gloom of night,
Monimia went to mourn;
She left a mother's fond alarms;
Ah! never to return!
To Jeoffry His Cat
© Christopher Smart
For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily
Songs Of The Imprisoned Naiad
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
"WOE! woe is me! the centuries pass away,
The mortal seasons run their ceaseless rounds,
While here I wither for the sunbright day,
Its genial sights and sounds.
Woe! woe is me!
The Marriage Of Tirzah And Ahirad
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Round the dark curtains of the fiery throne
Pauses awhile the voice of sacred song:
From all the angelic ranks goes forth a groan,
'How long, O Lord, how long?'
The still small voice makes answer, 'Wait and see,
Oh sons of glory, what the end shall be.'
Of The Nature Of Things: Book I - Part 06 - Confutation Of Other Philosophers
© Lucretius
And on such grounds it is that those who held
The stuff of things is fire, and out of fire
How Much More Blood?
© Sukasah Syahdan
How much more blood
must the people suffer
before they come to a halt
with this horror of power?
Reticence
© Peter McArthur
WE may not babble unto alien ears
The truth revealed, nor show to heedless eyes
A Translation Of The CIV. Psalm To The Original Sense
© Sir Henry Wotton
My soul exalt the Lord with Hymns of praise:
O Lord my God, how boundless is thy might?
Whose Throne of State is cloath'd with glorious rays,
And round about hast rob'd thy self with light.
Who like a curtain hast the Heavens display'd,
And in the watry Roofs thy Chambers laid.
How I Consulted The Oracle Of The Goldfishes
© James Russell Lowell
What know we of the world immense
Beyond the narrow ring of sense?
Grandmothers Teaching
© Alfred Austin
``Grandmother dear, you do not know; you have lived the old-world life,
Under the twittering eaves of home, sheltered from storm and strife;
Rocking cradles, and covering jams, knitting socks for baby feet,
Or piecing together lavender bags for keeping the linen sweet:
Daughter, wife, and mother in turn, and each with a blameless breast,
Then saying your prayers when the nightfall came, and quietly dropping to rest.
Juliet After The Masquerade. By Thompson
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
SHE left the festival, for it seem'd dim
Now that her eye no longer dwelt on him,
Your Voices Joined Is All It Takes
© Ivan Donn Carswell
They came in masted wooden ships across
an unindentured sea and cast their lot in ocean
swells to chance at history, and Sovereign power
commanded thus they rot in purgatory.
Your noble reign
© Ivan Donn Carswell
The man whose term we would remember as our longest,
constant serving Head of State, besides the late Sir Robert
Gordon Menzies, turned 67 yesterday. Congratulations John,
youve run a long and torrid race, kept up a frenzied pace
We, The Living
© Ivan Donn Carswell
There were moments when we rose above despair
borne by strength of spirit in your name,
but tragedy remained in darkened shadow's
gloom beneath your widow's eyes.
Water Babes
© Ivan Donn Carswell
We were water babes, born in the arms of a sparkling brook
that patiently took us into its heart. At the very start we
were never far from its shingly banks, playing amid ranks
of serried wildflowers. When one of us all but drowned
The Three Singers To Young Blood
© George Meredith
Carols nature, counsel men.
Different notes as rook from wren
Hear we when our steps begin,
And the choice is cast within,
Where a robber raven's tale
Urges passion's nightingale.
Nemesis
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
WHEN through the nations stalks contagion wild,
We from them cautiously should steal away.
