#AmericanWriters #PoemsOfPower
If all the end of this continuous… Were simply to attain, How poor would seem the planning a… The endless urging and the hurried… Of body, heart, and brain!
Methought a great wind swept acros… And all the toilers perished. The… Pale terror blanch the rosy face o… And careless eyes grow full of fea… The sounds of pleasure ceased; the…
You will forget me. The years are… They bind up the wounds which we t… This dream of our youth will fade… Fades from the skies when the sun… The cloud of forgetfulness, over a…
God measures souls by their capaci… For entertaining his best Angel,… Who loveth most is nearest kin to… Who is all Love, or Nothing. He who sits
We have scores of temperance men, Bold and earnest, brave and true, Fighting with the tongue and pen, And we value what they do. But, my friends,
I think men’s great capacity for p… Proves his immortal birthright. I… No merely human mind could bear th… Of some tremendous sorrows we endu… Art’s most ingenious breastworks f…
Not we who daily walk the City’s… Not those who have been cradled in… Best understand its architectural… Or realise its grandeur. Oft we m… Some stranger who has stayed his p…
We two make home of any place we g… We two find joy in any kind of wea… Or if the earth is clothed in bloo… If summer days invite, or bleak wi… What matters it if we two are toge…
I loved a maiden, long ago, She held within her hand my fate; And in the ruddy sunset glow We lingered at the garden gate. The splendor of the western skies
In the journey of life, as we trav… To the mystical goal that is hidde… You may stumble at times into Roa… Not seeing the sign-board that poi… Through caverns of sorrow your fee…
I am all tired out, said the mouth… I am all tired out with talk. Just wait, said the knee, till you… And then have to walk-walk-walk. My work, said the hand, is the har…
Now who is ready to go with me Off and away to dream town? Oh, such a journey as that will be… All dressed in a snow white gown. No shoe or stocking, they think it…
I am a river flowing from God’s… Through devious ways. He mapped m… I cannot change it; mine alone the… To keep the waters free from grime… The winding river ends where it be…
In Nature’s bright blossoms not a… That strange subtle essence more r… Which lies in the hearts of carnat… That unexplained something by men… Though modest the flower, yet grea…
To J. J. H., Of Kentucky Gathering brands from the burning, Plucking them out of the fire, Lifting the sheep that have wander… Out of the dust and the mire,