Strength poems
/ page 36 of 186 /
Sonnet 41: Having This Day My Horse
© Sir Philip Sidney
Having this day my horse, my hand, my lance
Guided so well that I obtain'd the prize,
With A Copy of: "In Memoriam"
© George MacDonald
Dear friend, you love the poet's song,
And here is one for your regard.
You know the "melancholy bard,"
Whose grief is wise as well as strong;
Aforetime
© Thomas Sturge Moore
Thou findest parables;
With fond imagination
Adorning truth
For the successive
Unpersuaded
Generations.
Tale I
© George Crabbe
THE DUMB ORATORS; OR THE BENEFIT OF SOCIETY.
That all men would be cowards if they dare,
A Descriptive Ode
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Supposed to have been written under the Ruins of
Rufus's Castle, among the remains of the ancient
Church on the Isle of Portland.
CHAOTIC pile of barren stone,
To ----
© George MacDonald
I cannot write old verses here,
Dead things a thousand years away,
When all the life of the young year
Is in the summer day.
Parade-Song of the Camp-Animals
© Rudyard Kipling
We lent to Alexander the strength of Hercules,
The wisdom of our foreheads, the cunning of our knees.
We bowed our necks to service-they ne'er were loosed again,-
Make way there, way for the ten-foot teams
Of the Forty-Pounder train!
The Creed
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Whoever was begotten by pure love,
And came desired and welcome into life,
Is of immaculate conception. He
Whose heart is full of tenderness and truth,
Welcome To The Grand Duke Alexis
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SHADOWED so long by the storm-cloud of danger,
Thou whom the prayers of an empire defend,
Welcome, thrice welcome! but not as a stranger,
Come to the nation that calls thee its friend!
The Grammarians Funeral
© Benjamin Tompson
Eight Parts of Speech this Day wear Mourning Gowns
Declin'd Verbs, Pronouns, Participles, Nouns.
The Spirits for Good
© Henry Lawson
We come with peace and reason,
We come with love and light,
To banish black self-treason
And everlasting night.
To W.L. Garrison
© James Russell Lowell
In a small chamber, friendless and unseen,
Toiled o'er his types one poor, unlearned young man;
The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean;
Yet there the freedom of a race began.
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto II
© Richard Savage
What scene of agony the garden brings;
The cup of gall; the suppliant king of kings!
The crown of thorns; the cross, that felt him die;
These, languid in the sketch, unfinish'd lie.
Aurora Leigh: Book Seventh
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I broke on Marian there. "Yet she herself,
A wife, I think, had scandals of her own,-
A lover not her husband."
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.
The Solitary
© Sara Teasdale
My heart has grown rich with the passing of years,
I have less need now than when I was young
To share myself with every comer
Or shape my thoughts into words with my tongue.
The Ghost - Book III
© Charles Churchill
It was the hour, when housewife Morn
With pearl and linen hangs each thorn;
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!
The Traveller; or, A Prospect of Society
© Oliver Goldsmith
Remote, unfriended, melancholy, slow
Or by the lazy Scheldt or wandering Po,
