Power poems
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The Gipsy's Camp
© John Clare
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp,
My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp,
The Plea Of The Midsummer Fairies
© Thomas Hood
I
'Twas in that mellow season of the year
When the hot sun singes the yellow leaves
Till they be gold,and with a broader sphere
Second Sight
© George MacDonald
Rich is the fancy which can double back
All seeming forms, and from cold icicles
Ode II
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
While wounded men leaped on their feet to hear,
And dying men upraised their eyes to see
How on the conflict's lowering canopy,
Dawned the first rainbow hues of victory!
Hyperion. Book II
© John Keats
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings
Hyperion slid into the rustled air,
The Siege Of Kazan. (Tartar Song, From The Prose Version Of Chodzko)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Black are the moors before Kazan,
And their stagnant waters smell of blood:
I said in my heart, with horse and man,
I will swim across this shallow flood.
A Captive Throstle
© Alfred Austin
Poor little mite with mottled breast,
Half-fledged, and fallen from the nest,
To One Threatened With Blindness
© George MacDonald
I.
Lawrence, what though the world be growing dark,
The Heather Branch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Out of the pale night air,
From wandering lone in the warm scented wood,
The sighing, shadowy, bright solitude
Of leafy glade, and the rough upland bare,
Wilson
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The lowliest born of all the land,
He wrung from Fate's reluctant hand
The gifts which happier boyhood claims;
And, tasting on a thankless soil
The bitter bread of unpaid toil,
He fed his soul with noble aims.
Our Jack
© Henry Kendall
Twelve years ago our Jack was lost. All night,
Twelve years ago, the Spirit of the Storm
Sonnet Composed On A March Morning In The Woods
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE winds are loud and trumpet-clear to-day;
They seem to sound in onset, half in ire,
Half in the wildness of a vague desire
To force spring's fairy vanguard to delay;
Italy : 49. The Feluca
© Samuel Rogers
Day glimmered; and beyond the precipice
(Which my mule followed as in love with fear,
Or as in scorn, yet more and more inclining
To tempt the danger where it menaced most)
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 01 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
God sends his angel to Tortosa down,
Jones's Private Argyment
© Sidney Lanier
That air same Jones, which lived in Jones,
He had this pint about him:
He'd swear with a hundred sighs and groans,
That farmers MUST stop gittin' loans,
And git along without 'em:
The Wanderers Return
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
An old heart's mourning is a hideous thing,
And weeds upon an aged weeper cling
Like night upon a grave. The city there,
Gaunt as a woman who has once been fair,
Rhymed Plea For Tolerance - Dialogue I
© John Kenyon
Yet the heart vents still more indignant blame,
Where Lawgivers their sullen codes proclaim,
And idly would constrain the creed within,
As if Belief were Crime, and ToleranceSin.
