Strength poems

 / page 61 of 186 /
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Georgic 2

© Publius Vergilius Maro

Thus far the tilth of fields and stars of heaven;

Now will I sing thee, Bacchus, and, with thee,

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An Out-Worn Sappho

© James Whitcomb Riley

How tired I am! I sink down all alone

  Here by the wayside of the Present. Lo,

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For A Picture Of Rossetti

© Arthur Symons

Smoke of battle lifts and lies
Sullen in her smouldering eyes,
Where are seen
Captive bales of merchandise.

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The Lady Of The Hills

© Madison Julius Cawein

Though red my blood hath left its trail

  For five far miles, I shall not fail,

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Sampson's Lion

© John Newton

The lion that on Sampson roared,
And thirsted for his blood;
With honey afterwards was stored,
And furnished him with food.

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Come Back

© Henry William Herbert

COME back and bring my life again

  That went with thee beyond my will!

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Pippa Passes: Part III: Evening

© Robert Browning


Mother
If there blew wind, you'd hear a long sigh, easing
The utmost heaviness of music's heart.

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The Death-Raven (From The Danish Of Oehlenslaeger)

© George Borrow

"The wealthy bird came towering,
Came scowering,
O'er hill and stream.
'Look here, look here, thou needy bird,
How gay my feathers gleam.'

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The Anvil

© Rudyard Kipling

There shall be one people-it shall serve one Lord-
  (Neither Priest nor Baron shall escape!)
It shall have one  speech  and  law,  soul  and  strength  and  sword.
 England's  being  hammered,  hammered,  hammered  into shape!

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A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXVI

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Youth is all valiant. He and I together,
Conscious of strength, and unreproved of wrong,
Strained at the world's conventions as a tether
Too weak to bind us, and burst forth in song.

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An Ode - In Imitation of Horace, Book III. Ode II.

© Matthew Prior

How long, deluded Albion, wilt thou lie

In the lethargic sleep, the sad repose

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Mr. Edwards and the Spider

© Robert Lowell

  I saw the spiders marching through the air,

  Swimming from tree to tree that mildewed day

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Laodamia

© William Wordsworth

  O terror! what hath she perceived?-O joy!
  What doth she look on?-whom doth she behold?
  Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy?
  His vital presence? his corporeal mould?
  It is-if sense deceive her not-'tis He!
  And a God leads him, wingèd Mercury!

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The Way To Happiness

© Thomas Parnell

How long ye miserable blind

Shall idle dreams engage your mind,

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Message From Abroad

© Allen Tate

Paris, November 1929
Their faces are bony and sharp but very red, although
their ancestors nearly two hundred years have dwelt
by the miasmal banks of tidewaters where malarial fever
makes men gaunt and dosing with quinine shakes them
as with a palsy. Traveller to America (1799).

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A Blessing

© Swami Vivekananda

The Mother's heart, the hero's will,

The softest flowers' sweetest feel;

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Marmion: Introduction to Canto I

© Sir Walter Scott

November's sky is chill and drear,

November's leaf is red and sear:

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I Am Standing Upon The Seashore.

© Henry Van Dyke

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

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Otho The Great - Act V

© John Keats

SCENE I. A part of the Forest.

Enter CONRAD and AURANTHE.

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For A' That And A' That

© Sir Walter Scott

For on the land, or on the sea,
  Where'er the breezes blaw that,
The British flag shall bear the grie,
  And win the day for a' that!