Power poems
/ page 60 of 324 /Tannhauser
© Emma Lazarus
Far into Wartburg, through all Italy,
In every town the Pope sent messengers,
Riding in furious haste; among them, one
Who bore a branch of dry wood burst in bloom;
The pastoral rod had borne green shoots of spring,
And leaf and blossom. God is merciful.
From The Italian Of Michael Angelo
© William Wordsworth
YES! hope may with my strong desire keep pace,
And I be undeluded, unbetrayed;
For if of our affections none finds grace
In sight of Heaven, then, wherefore hath God made
The Ghost - Book III
© Charles Churchill
It was the hour, when housewife Morn
With pearl and linen hangs each thorn;
Marmion: Introduction to Canto II.
© Sir Walter Scott
But chief 'twere sweet to think such life
(Though but escape from fortune's strife),
Something most matchless good and wise,
A great and grateful sacrifice;
And deem each hour to musing given
A step upon the road to heaven.
Looking In The Fire
© Ada Cambridge
The snow falls soft and thick. My cedar bough
Sways up and down, and scratches on the glass.
The wind sighs in the chimney, as I sit,
With elbows on my knees, before the fire,
Resting a crumpled chin in hollow'd palms.
The Forest Sanctuary - Part II.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Ave, sanctissima!
'Tis night-fall on the sea;
Ora pro nobis!
Our souls rise to thee!
Star-Gazers
© William Wordsworth
WHAT crowd is this? what have we here! we must not pass it by;
A Telescope upon its frame, and pointed to the sky:
Long is it as a barber's pole, or mast of little boat,
Some little pleasure-skiff, that doth on Thames's waters float.
The Traveller; or, A Prospect of Society
© Oliver Goldsmith
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow
Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,
Blind Old Milton
© William Edmondstoune Aytoun
Place me once more, my daughter, where the sun
May shine upon my old and time-worn head,
Don Juan: Canto The Sixth
© George Gordon Byron
'There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which,--taken at the flood,'--you know the rest,
The Quaker Of The Olden Time
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THE Quaker of the olden time!
How calm and firm and true,
Unspotted by its wrong and crime,
He walked the dark earth through.
To The Duke Of Dorset
© George Gordon Byron
Dorset! whose early steps with mine have stray'd,
Exploring every path of Ida's glade;
The Four Seasons : Autumn
© James Thomson
Crown'd with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf,
While Autumn, nodding o'er the yellow plain,
Comes jovial on; the Doric reed once more,
Well pleased, I tune. Whate'er the wintry frost
The Shepherdess Of The Arno
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Tis no wild and wondrous legend, but a simple pious tale
Of a gentle shepherd maiden, dwelling in Italian vale,
Near where Arnos glittering waters like the sunbeams flash and play
As they mirror back the vineyards through which they take their way.
The Olive Branch
© George Meredith
A dove flew with an Olive Branch;
It crossed the sea and reached the shore,
And on a ship about to launch
Dropped down the happy sign it bore.
The First Part: Sonnet 10 - Fair Moon, who with thy cold and silver shine
© William Henry Drummond
Fair Moon, who with thy cold and silver shine
Makes sweet the horror of the dreadful night,
The Progress of Spring
© Alfred Tennyson
THE groundflame of the crocus breaks the mould,
Fair Spring slides hither o'er the Southern sea,
Beer
© Charles Stuart Calverley
In those old days which poets say were golden -
(Perhaps they laid the gilding on themselves:
Wind-Clouds And Star-Drifts
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Here am I, bound upon this pillared rock,
Prey to the vulture of a vast desire
That feeds upon my life. I burst my bands
And steal a moment's freedom from the beak,
The clinging talons and the shadowing plumes;
Then comes the false enchantress, with her song;