Strength poems

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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10

© Publius Vergilius Maro

THE GATES of heavn unfold: Jove summons all

The gods to council in the common hall.

The Sprits Of Light And Darkness

© Madison Julius Cawein

As from the evil good
Springs like a fire,
As bland beatitude
Wells from the dire,
So was the Chaos brood
Of us the sire.

The Wind Of March

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Up from the sea, the wild north wind is blowing
Under the sky's gray arch;
Smiling, I watch the shaken elm-boughs, knowing
It is the wind of March.

Marmion: Canto I. - The Castle

Within and Without: Part IV: A Dramatic Poem

© George MacDonald

SCENE I.-Summer. Julian's room. JULIAN is reading out of a book of
poems.

Duty

© Peter McArthur

IF "Yea" and "Nay" were words enough for Him,

Who taught beyond the lessons of all teaching,

Evangeline: Part The First. V.

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

FOUR times the sun had risen and set; and now on the fifth day

Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the farm-house.

Abu Midjan

© Archibald Lampman

Underneath a tree at noontide
Abu Midjan sits distressed,
Fetters on his wrists and ancles,
And his chin upon his breast;

Paradise Regain'd: Book I (1671)

© Patrick Kavanagh

I Who e're while the happy Garden sung,

By one mans disobedience lost, now sing

On The Downs

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

A faint sea without wind or sun;
A sky like flameless vapour dun;
A valley like an unsealed grave
That no man cares to weep upon,
Bare, without boon to crave,
Or flower to save.

A Death in the Desert

© Robert Browning

Then Xanthus said a prayer, but still he slept:
It is the Xanthus that escaped to Rome,
Was burned, and could not write the chronicle.

But otherwise Fate wills it, for, behold,
Our gathered strength of individual pain,
When Time’s long alchemy hath made it gold,
Dies with us—hoarded all these years in vain,
Since those that might be heir to it the mould
Renew, and coin themselves new griefs again.

La Patrie

© Robert Laurence Binyon

Through storm--blown gloom the subtle light persists;
Shapes of tumultuous, ghostly cloud appear,
Trailing a dark shower from hill--drenching mists:
Dawn, desolate in its majesty, is here.

Epistles to Several Persons: Epistle IV

Still follow sense, of ev'ry art the soul,
Parts answ'ring parts shall slide into a whole,
Spontaneous beauties all around advance,
Start ev'n from difficulty, strike from chance;
Nature shall join you; time shall make it grow
A work to wonder at—perhaps a Stowe.

Speeding

Requiescat is not my bidding,
That is the weary man's right speeding;
You, O Child, full of life and laughter,
Joy to you now and long days hereafter!