Strength poems
/ page 79 of 186 /
Sir Galahad
© Alfred Tennyson
MY good blade carves the casques of men,
My tough lance thrusteth sure,
The Bell-Founder Part III - Vicissitude And Rest
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
O Erin! thou broad-spreading valley--thou well-watered land of fresh
streams,
When I gaze on thy hills greenly sloping, where the light of such
loveliness beams,
Women
© Margaret Widdemer
YOU fret and grieve and turn about
To make this world and living out,
With "This is so" and "That is so"
Ah, sirs, we learned it long ago!
Psalm Of The West
© Sidney Lanier
Master, Master, break this ban:
The wave lacks Thee.
Oh, is it not to widen man
Stretches the sea?
Oh, must the sea-bird's idle van
Alone be free?
A Prayer
© Archibald Lampman
Oh mother, who wast long before our day,
And after us full many an age shalt be.
Careworn and blind, we wander from thy way:
Born of thy strength, yet weak and halt are we
Grant us, oh mother, therefore, us who pray,
Some little of thy light and majesty.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 04 - Absence Of Secondary Qualities
© Lucretius
Next, they who deem that feeling objects can
From feeling objects be create, and these,
In turn, from others that are wont to feel
The Victories Of Love. Book II
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
II
From Lady Clitheroe To Mary Churchill
A Womans Sonnets: II
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Nay, dear one, ask me not to leave thee yet.
Let me a little longer hold thy hand.
Too soon it is to bid me to forget
The joys I was so late to understand.
Sappho I
© Sara Teasdale
MIDNIGHT, and in the darkness not a sound,
So, with hushed breathing, sleeps the autumn night;
Only the white immortal stars shall know,
Here in the house with the low-lintelled door,
In Carissimam Memoriam A.S.P.
© Robert Laurence Binyon
To whom but thee, my youth to dedicate,
My youth, which these few leaves have sought to save,
Should I now come, although I come too late,
Alas! and can but lay them on thy grave?
The Wrestlers
© Wilfred Owen
So neck to neck and obstinate knee to knee
Wrestled those two; and peerless Heracles
The Comedian As The Letter C: 04 - The Idea Of A Colony
© Wallace Stevens
Trinket pasticcio, flaunting skyey sheets,
With Crispin as the tiptoe cozener?
No, no: veracious page on page, exact.
Hymn To Mercury
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK OF HOMER.
I.
Sing, Muse, the son of Maia and of Jove,
The Herald-child, king of Arcadia
Westward
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I found my Love among the fern. She slept.
My shadow stole across her, as I stept
More lightly and slowly, seeing her pillowed so
In the short--turfed and shelving green hollow
The Farmer's Boy - Spring
© Robert Bloomfield
Down, indignation! hence, ideas foul!
Away the shocking image from my soul!
Let kindlier visitants attend my way,
Beneath approaching _Summer's_ fervid ray;
Nor thankless glooms obtrude, nor cares annoy,
Whilst the sweet theme is _universal joy_.
As By Fire
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Sometimes I feel so passionate a yearning
For spiritual perfection here below,
This vigorous frame, with healthful fervor burning,
Seems my determined foe,
To Octavia, the Infant Daughter of the Late John Larking, esq.
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Full many a gloomy month hath passed,
On flagging wing, regardless by,
