Strength poems

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186

Where the sinister sun of the Syrians beat
On the brittle, bright stubble,
And the camels fell back from the swords of the heat,
Came Saul, with a fire in the soles of his feet,
And a forehead of trouble.

Saint Elizabeth Of Bohemia

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

I.
I NEVER lay me down to sleep at night
But in my heart I sing that little song:
The angels hear it as, a pitying throng,

The Bard

© William Gilmore Simms

Where dwells the spirit of the Bard-what sky

Persuades his daring wing,-

The Isle Of Founts

© Felicia Dorothea Hemans

Son of the stranger! wouldst thou take
O'er yon blue hills thy lonely way,
To reach the still and shining lake
Along whose banks the west-winds play?
-Let no vain dreams thy heart beguile,
Oh! seek thou not the Fountain-Isle!

The Toad

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Then also was it that that child with the stone,
He who now tells this story, from his hands
Let the flag drop. A voice had cried to him
Too loud for denial: ``Fool. Be merciful.''

The Ring And The Book - Chapter III - The Other Half-Rome

© Robert Browning

ANOTHER DAY that finds her living yet,

Little Pompilia, with the patient brow

Italy : 19. Foscari

© Samuel Rogers

Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber. Now a sigh,
And now a groan is heard. Then all is still.
Twenty are sitting as in judgement there;

The Trenches

© Frederic Manning

Endless lanes sunken in the clay,

Bays, and traverses, fringed with wasted herbage,

Richard and Kate: A suffolk Ballad

© Robert Bloomfield

'Come, Goody, stop your humdrum wheel,
Sweep up your orts, and get your Hat;
Old joys reviv'd once more I feel,
'Tis Fair-day;--ay, _and more than that._

The Art Of War. Book II.

© Henry James Pye

The season form'd to fan more pleasing fires,
Parent of blooming hopes and young desires,
When smiling Graces every flower combine,
The blooming wreaths of Love and Peace to twine,
Tempts only now to scenes of blood and death
The daring Warrior urg'd by Glory's breath.

The Poor Of The Borough. Letter XXI: Abel Keene

© George Crabbe

merchant's son,
Choice spirits all, who wish'd him to be one;
It must, no question, give them lively joy,
Hopes long indulged to combat and destroy;
At these they levelled all their skill and

Jaspar

Jaspar was poor, and want and vice
Had made his heart like stone,
And Jaspar look'd with envious eyes
On riches not his own.

A Story Of Doom: Book I.

© Jean Ingelow

Niloiya said to Noah, "What aileth thee,
My master, unto whom is my desire,
The father of my sons?" He answered her,
"Mother of many children, I have heard
The Voice again." "Ah, me!" she saith, "ah, me!
What spake it?" and with that Niloiya sighed.

"The City of Brass"

In a land that the sand overlays the ways to her gates are untrod
A multitude ended their days whose gates were made splendid by God,
Till they grew drunk and were smitten with madness and went to their fall,
And of these is a story written: but Allah Alone knoweth all!