#AmericanWriters #PoemsOfPower
If one poor burdened toiler o’er l… Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his gall… Then life, indeed, does pay. If we can show one troubled heart…
We are younger in years! Yes, tha… But in some things we are older th… For instance, you sometimes say wi… ‘It will do to drink wine once in… We say, ‘It will not do at all!’
With care, and skill, and cunning… She parried Time’s malicious dart… And kept the years at bay, Till passion entered in her heart And aged her in a day!
We must not force events, but rath… The heart soil ready for their com… The earth spreads carpets for the… Or, with the strengthening tonic o… Prepares for Winter. Should a Ju…
Once in the world’s first prime, When nothing lived or stirred, Nothing but new-born Time, Nor was there even a bird— The Silence spoke to a Star,
GOOD-BY to the cradle, the dear… The rude hand of Progress has thr… No more to its motion, o’er Sleep… Our play-weary wayfarers peacefull… No more by the rhythm of slow-movi…
Alone she sat with her accusing he… That, like a restless comrade frig… And every thought that found her,… That hurt her so, she could not ev… Her heart that once had been a cup…
The Needle and Thread one day wer… The Thimble acted as priest, A paper of Pins, and the Scissors… Were among the guests at the feast… That dandy trim the Bodkin slim
Smile a little, smile a little, As you go along, Not alone when life is pleasant, But when things go wrong. Care delights to see you frowning,
To Miss Eva Russell. The spring time is deaf to our ple… The meadows are brown as can be. The hilltops are bleak and unlovel… No thrush sits and sings on the tr…
Sir Knight of the world’s oldest… Sir Knight of the Army of God, You have crossed the strange mysti… The ground floor of truth you have… You have entered the sanctum sanct…
I am the Voice of the Voiceless Through me the dumb shall speak Till the world’s deaf ear be made… The wrongs of the wordless weak. Oh shame on the mothers of mortals
I called to the summer sun, ‘Come over the hills to-day! Unlock the rivers, and tell them t… And kiss the snow-drifts and melt… And the sun came over ' a tardy…
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,
There was a little comet who lived… She loved to wander out at night a… The mother of the comet was a very… She used to scold her reckless chi… She told her of the ogre, Sun, wh…