Strength poems
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When The Rain Is On The Roof
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Lord, I am poor, and know not how to speak,
But since Thou art so great,
Thou needest not that I should speak to Thee well.
All angels speak unto Thee well.
The Staff and Scrip
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Who rules these lands? the Pilgrim said.
Stranger, Queen Blanchelys.
The Lord Is King
© George Wither
The Lord is King, and weareth
A robe of glory bright:
He clothed with strength appeareth,
And girt with powerful might.
Epilogue
© Edgar Lee Masters
You're dreaming worlds. I'm in the King row.
Move as you will, if I can't wreck you
I'll thwart you, harry you, rout you, check you.
The Bronze David Of Donatello
© Randall Jarrell
To so much strength, those overborne by it
Seemed girls, and death came to it like a girl,
Came to it, through the soft air, like a bird-
So that the boy is like a girl, is like a bird
Standing on something it has pecked to death.
AN ELEGY Upon the most victorious King of Sweden Gustavus Adolphus
© Henry King
---O Famâ ingens ingentior armis
Rex Gustave, quibus Clo te laudibus æquem?
Virgil. Æneid. lib. 2.
Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus
© Charles Wesley
Come, thou long-expected Jesus,
Born to set thy people free;
From our fears and sins release us,
Let us find our rest in thee.
Overruled
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The threads our hands in blindness spin
No self-determined plan weaves in;
The shuttle of the unseen powers
Works out a pattern not as ours.
Let Me Lean Hard
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Let me lean hard upon the Eternal Breast;
In all earth's devious ways, I sought for rest
Colour
© Dorothea Mackellar
The lovely things that I have watched unthinking,
Unknowing, day by day,
That their soft dyes have steeped my soul in colour
That will not pass away -
The Little Left Hand - Act III
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Interior of a Church--Davis, Bradshaw, and others.
Davis. The sword of the Lord and the sword of Gideon!
It was good To see the red--coats run before our multitude.
We broke them by sheer numbers--
Merlin And Vivien
© Alfred Tennyson
A storm was coming, but the winds were still,
And in the wild woods of Broceliande,
Before an oak, so hollow, huge and old
It looked a tower of ivied masonwork,
At Merlin's feet the wily Vivien lay.
Captive Conquerors
© Jessie Pope
OH! Stuttgart Frauleins, and capacious Fraus,
What shocking news is this that filters through?
Have you been fostering domestic rows
By casting, naughtily, glad eyes of blue
At poor old Tommy in his prison-house?
Tut! tut! This is a pretty how-d'ye do!
Italy : 23. Bologna
© Samuel Rogers
'Twas night; the noise and bustle of the day
Were o'er. The mountebank no longer wrought
Miraculous cures -- he and his stage were gone;
And he who, when the crisis of his tale
St. Dorothy
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
And Theophile burnt in the cheek, and said:
Yea, could one see it, this were marvellous.
I pray you, at your coming to this house,
Give me some leaf of all those tree-branches;
Seeing how so sharp and white our weather is,
There is no green nor gracious red to see.
The Visionary Hope
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sad lot, to have no Hope! Though lowly kneeling
He fain would frame a prayer within his breast,
Would fain entreat for some sweet breath of healing,
That his sick body might have ease and rest;
The Parish Register - Part I: Baptisms
© George Crabbe
floor.
Here his poor bird th' inhuman Cocker brings,
Arms his hard heel and clips his golden wings;
With spicy food th' impatient spirit feeds,
And shouts and curses as the battle bleeds.
Struck through the brain, deprived of both his
The Farewell
© Charles Churchill
_P_. Farewell to Europe, and at once farewell
To all the follies which in Europe dwell;
