#AmericanWriters #PoemsOfPower
Time has made conquest of so many… That once were mine. Swift-footed… That ran to meet the years; bold b… That broke all laws of reason unaf… And laughed at talk of punishment.…
You may thrill with the speed of y… You may laugh with delight as you… You may rush afar in your touring… Leaping, sweeping, by things that… But you never will know the joy of…
Adieu, Romauld! But thou canst no… Although no more I haunt thy drea… Thy hungering heart forever must r… And starve for those lost moments… Naught shall avail thy priestly ri…
Too sweet and too subtle for pen o… In phrases unwritten and measures… As deep and as strange as the soun… Is the song that my spirit is sing… In the midnight and tempest when f…
Look in the eyes of trouble with a… Extend your hand and do not be afr… —Tis but a friend who comes to mas… And test your faith and courage fo… Fly, and he follows fast with thre…
When you go away, my friend, When you say your last good-bye, Then the summer time will end, And the winter will be nigh. Though the green grass decks the h…
It may be you’ve seen her eyes, Dark and deep like midnight skies; You mayhap have seen them flash Underneath the drooping lash, And been dazzled by the light
I think I hear the sound of horse… Beating upon the graveled avenue. Go to the window that looks on the… He would not let me die alone, I… Back to the couch the patient watc…
Words are great forces in the real… Be careful of their use. Who tal… Of poverty, of sickness, but sets… These very elements to mar his fat… When love, health, happiness, and…
One bitter time of mourning, I re… When day, and night, my sad heart… My life, I said, was one cold, bl… And all its pleasures, were but wh… Nothing could rouse me from my sul…
You remember the hall on the corne… To-night as I walked down street I heard the sound of music, And the rhythmic beat and beat, In time to the pulsing measure
O man, with your wonderful dower, O woman, with genius and grace, You can teach the whole world with… If you are but worthy the place. The stage is a force and a factor
Not like a daring, bold, aggressiv… Is inspiration, eager to pursue, But rather like a maiden, fond, ye… Who gives herself to him who best… Once she may smile, or thrice, thy…
As the ambitious sculptor, tireles… Chisel and hammer to the block at… Before my half-formed character I… And ply the shining tools of menta… I’ll cut away a huge, unsightly si…
Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot; Or so the unperceiving thought, Who looked no deeper than her face… Devoid of chiselled lines of grace… No farther than her humble grate,