On the Departure of Sir Walter Scott from Abbotsford
. A trouble, not of clouds, or weeping rain,
Nor of the setting sun's pathetic light
Engendered, hangs o'er Eildon's triple height:
Spirits of Power, assembled there, complain
For kindred Power departing from their sight;
While Tweed, best pleased in chanting a blithe strain,
Saddens his voice again, and yet again.
Lift up your hearts, ye Mourners! for the might
Of the whole world's good wishes with him goes;
Blessings and prayers in nobler retinue
Than sceptred king or laurelled conqueror knows,
Follow this wondrous Potentate. Be true,
Ye winds of ocean, and the midland sea,
Wafting your Charge to soft Parthenope!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Related quotes
Today... 'Blessèd and only Potentate
No mortal man can bear the awesome sight
of the One in unapproachable light
Blessèd and only Potentate from heaven
To Him all honour and power is given.
The King of kings and Lord of lords is He
The Omnipotent One no man can see.
To Him shall all the praise and glory be
The One now crowned with immortality.
Sovereign Lord and ruler of all men
Blessèd and only Potentate from heaven.
In God's great plan the time is yet to come
When He shall appear and call us all home.
Then in heaven we shall rejoice and bring
praise and worship to our Heavenly King.
Cast down our crowns as before Him we fall
The Blessèd and only Potentate of all.
There in heaven is the Lamb Who was slain
No other man is more worthy to reign.
He reigns as King of kings and Lord of lords
with the highest honour that heaven affords.
(see also the additional information below in the Poet's box)
Personality People Perceptions
do not fear
that you need
stand taller
people
of true
perception
real potential
perceive us
not according
to our height
but according
to our sincerity
best wishes
of our hearts
in blessings
best wishes
for their futures
that we offer
poem by Terence George Craddock
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I Believe In the Power
I believe in the power of you.
As the rain falls upon us and
everyone else scatters.
I believe in the power of you.
As I look into the shadowy pools
of your mysterious eyes.
I believe in the power of you.
As I fall into your arms always
trusting you to catch me.
I believe in the power of you.
As you listen while I pour my
heart and I cry my eyes out to you.
I believe in the power of you.
As I sit and listen to your
words, your wisdom filtering your deep voice.
I believe in the power of you.
As I lay in your warm embrace
feeling protected and cherished.
I believe in the power of you.
As you turn away and walk out
the door, promising to come back.
I believe in the power of you.
As I sit waiting patiently
for some sign of you to return.
I believe in the power of you.
As even now I doubt all my
faith in the one person I truly love.
I believe in the power of you.
As I sit here crying and swearing
wishing you could hear me.
I believe in the power of you.
As I begin to lose passion for
everything I loved when I was with you.
I believe in the power of you.
As I lay dying in bed suffering
from a broken heart.
I believe in the power of you.
As I close my eyes and an
image of you forms in my mind.
I believe in the power of you.
As I begin to feel a rage that
is red hot and will not go away.
I believe in the power of myself.
As i see your true image; a true
image of who you are inside.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I begin to build my life up and
start doing the things I enjoy.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I understand the things that
were so illusive to me before.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I take back your control over
me and start living my life.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I no longer believe in the
power of you.
I believe in the power of myself.
As you and your power
no longer affects me.
I believe in the power of myself.
As I begin to love the one true
person I've forgotten in all of this
Me.
poem by Cleo A. Fletcher
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Coronation of a King
Finally crowned king of this world!
He'd come along roads and across rivers,
He was the man from the other world,
He wasn't deterred by estrangement,
He didn't know the way back,
Nor did he want to tread that path,
All he wanted was to cruise ahead,
To trample down the new tracks,
Not to take those beaten paths.
Corridors of power mapped in his brain,
Just marched ahead with a steely intent.
Power over people and power over the world,
Readily renounced control over himself,
Lost all power he had over himself,
For power over people and the world.
Thus he roamed the corridors of power,
Waiting for the day he'd be king,
The coronation over, power gained,
But I await the day he'd rue the loss,
The lost control over his own life.
poem by Saju Abraham
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The Home Of The Spirit
Answer me, burning stars of night,
Where is the spirit gone,
That past the reach of human sight,
As a swift breeze hath flown?
And the stars answer'd me: 'We roll
In light and power on high;
But of the never-dying soul
Ask that which cannot die.'
O many-toned and chainless wind,
Thou art a wanderer free;
Tell me if thou its place canst find,
Far over mount and sea?
And the wind murmur'd in reply:
'The blue deep I have cross'd,
And met its barks and billows high,
But not what thou hast lost.'
Ye clouds that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,
Answer - Have ye a home for those
Whose earthly race is run?
The bright clouds answer'd: 'We depart,
We vanish from the sky;
Ask what is deathless in thy heart
For that which cannot die.'
Speak, then, thou voice of God within,
Thou of the deep low tone;
Answer me, through life's restless din -
Where is the spirit flown?
And the voice answer'd: 'Be thou still;
Enough to know is given;
Clouds, winds, and stars
their
part fulfil;
Thine
is to trust in Heaven.'
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Psalm 134
Daily and nightly devotion.
Ye that obey th' immortal King,
Attend his holy place;
Bow to the glories of his power,
And bless his wondrous grace.
Lift up your hands by morning light,
And send your souls on high;
Raise your admiring thoughts by night
Above the starry sky.
The God of Zion cheers our hearts
With rays of quick'ning grace;
The God that spread the heav'ns abroad,
And rules the swelling seas.
poem by Isaac Watts
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A Little Merman (Fun Poem 51)
Just beyond the reef
where the little fishes swim
there lives a little merman
and his name is Gunga Din.
He frolics in the ocean
from morning to night,
playing with the mermaids
is his hearts delight.
One day while playing
on the ocean floor
Gunga din found a bottle
with a Genie trapped within.
He opened the bottle
and set the Genie free.
The Genie then said to him.
“Three wishes I now grant to thee.”
“Three wishes? What are those? ”
Gunga Din asked the Genie.
“Wishes are made
for anything you want,
and then I will make them come true.”
“But I have no need for wishes.
I have everything my heart desires.”
“But surely there is something
that you would like most of all? ”
Gunga Din shook his head.
“There is nothing I require.”
“Nothing? ” Asked the Genie.
“Nothing.” Gunga Din replied.
“You see Mr Genie
I have everything I need.
I am completely satisfied
with everything I have got.”
“The oceans are my gardens
to play around all day within.
I have plenty of friends
to keep me company.
So what do I need your wishes for?
I have everything I’ll ever need.”
“But I must grant you three wishes
for setting me free
and If you won’t take the wishes
I cannot be free.“
Gunga thought for a moment.
This cannot be right.
Everyone must be free
to do as they wish.
“Get back in the bottle, Mr Genie.
I’ll take you to some distant sandy shore.
I’ll put you on the beach
for someone to find.
I’m sure in that greedy world out there,
that there is someone
who will take up your wishes
and set you free.
28 December 2007
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Power To The People
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Say you want a revolution
We better get on right away
Well you get on your feet
And out on the street
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
A million workers working for nothing
You better give em what they really own
We got to put you down
When we come into town
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
I gotta ask you comrades and brothers
How do you treat you own woman back home
She got to be herself
So she can free herself
Singing power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Now, now, now, now
Oh well, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Yeah, power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on
song performed by by Lennon John
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Power
A wave of power rushes past you on a windy day
waving your hair into disarray and tingling your skin
A formless power makes you comfortable in the biting cold
the same power fills you in agony, pain and suffering
when you go straight to possess the heart of that comfortable power
and it is the same power which falls out of the clouds in little drops
and each of these are a single form of power
for the power is in the air
and the power is in the fire and the power is in the water.
A beam of power ricochets into your eyes from something
and you are illuminated with the beauty of the complete world
you see the ugly, you see the amazing, you see the violent,
and you see every solid and pattern
you see darkness behind an object in the form of it
lying in the ground or right beside your arm
and even in the darkness, there are objects and things
which has a power that enables you a touch of it.
All for the reason that the power is in the objects,
and the power is in the light and even the darkness and shadows.
A form of the same power enables you,
to know the presence of your woman near you
the same form of power gives you, the knowledge
of the proximity of your best food.
For the power is in the scent and smell
and the power is even in your nose that smells.
A vibe of power rings in your ear
and you know that something is somewhere near
and your tongue that knows the quality of the food
is all the power that's doing you good
the sound is itself the power
and so is the ear and the tongue
the tongue that so eagerly tastes your favorite food
the food which contains the power in itself too.
All this time you and me are here
and all this time everything else is there,
is for the power is everywhere;
the power pumps inside your body all the time
and even when you are dead and bloodless,
the power is still there in your veins and muscles.
The power is the life, the soul
the touch, the light, the darkness, the sound
the sentiments flowing inside you is the power
the strike you make in anger is the power,
and the power is existence, energy, substance, and motion.
The power was in the place where God was born
the God is Himself the power
and like God Himself,
the power is omnipotent, and it is there where existence is there.
poem by Rajiv Prajapati
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Before The Lord We Bow
Before the Lord we bow, the God Who reigns above,
And rules the world below, boundless in power and love.
Our thanks we bring in joy and praise, our hearts we raise
To Heaven's high King.
The nation Thou hast blest may well Thy love declare,
From foes and fears at rest, protected by Thy care.
For this fair land, for this bright day, our thanks we pay,
Gifts of Thy hand.
May every mountain height, each vale and forest green,
Shine in Thy Word's pure light, and its rich fruits be seen!
May every tongue be tuned to praise, and join to raise
A grateful song.
Earth, hear thy Maker's voice, thy great Redeemer own;
Believe, obey, rejoice, and worship Him alone.
Cast down thy pride, thy sin deplore and bow before
The Crucified.
And when in power He comes, O may our native land,
From all its rending tombs, send forth a glorious band.
A countless throng, ever to sing to Heaven's high King
Salvation's song.
poem by Francis Scott Key
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Voices Of The Night : Midnight Mass For The Dying Year
Yes, the Year is growing old,
And his eye is pale and bleared!
Death, with frosty hand and cold,
Plucks the old man by the beard,
Sorely, sorely!
The leaves are falling, falling,
Solemnly and slow;
Caw! caw! the rooks are calling,
It is a sound of woe,
A sound of woe!
Through woods and mountain passes
The winds, like anthems, roll;
They are chanting solemn masses,
Singing, 'Pray for this poor soul,
Pray, pray!'
And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain,
And patter their doleful prayers;
But their prayers are all in vain,
All in vain!
There he stands in the foul weather,
The foolish, fond Old Year,
Crowned with wild flowers and with heather,
Like weak, despiséd Lear,
A king, a king!
Then comes the summer-like day,
Bids the old man rejoice!
His joy! his last! Oh, the man gray
Loveth that ever-soft voice,
Gentle and low.
To the crimson woods he saith,
To the voice gentle and low
Of the soft air, like a daughter's breath,
'Pray do not mock me so!
Do not laugh at me!'
And now the sweet day is dead;
Cold in his arms it lies;
No stain from its breath is spread
Over the glassy skies,
No mist or stain!
Then, too, the Old Year dieth,
And the forests utter a moan,
Like the voice of one who crieth
In the wilderness alone,
'Vex not his ghost!'
Then comes, with an awful roar,
Gathering and sounding on,
The storm-wind from Labrador,
The wind Euroclydon,
The storm-wind!
Howl! howl! and from the forest
Sweep the red leaves away!
Would the sins that thou abhorrest,
O Soul! could thus decay,
And be swept away!
For there shall come a mightier blast,
There shall be a darker day;
And the stars, from heaven down-cast
Like red leaves be swept away!
Kyrie, eleyson!
Christe, eleyson!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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The Best Kept Secret
The view outside
The best kept secret
No one can reach it
No one believes
Its in the air
A chance to run now
So here I come now
Its time to leave
Who can remember just who is the leader
A soft spoken showman, accepted, encouraged
While under the cities the shuffle of money is speaking
The power of choice is the power of reason
The power of voice is the key to the world
So now just count the times that the chill in their words
Leaves you freezing
Tell me youre safe
That Im not dreaming
No night thoughts screaming
No face in the rain
For the first time
The view is clearing
No longer fearing
The shadow of pain
A certain smile conceals the highest card
Beyond this place the rains are falling hard
Someone somewhere
The voice you never hear
Salvation ringing clear
Always ahead
Please help me now
To see the blazing light
The stars return tonight
Burning so red
Who can remember just who is the leader
A soft spoken showman, accepted, encouraged
While under the cities the shuffle of money is speaking
The power of choice is the power of reason
The power of voice is the key to the world
So now just count the times that the chill in their words
Leaves you freezing
A certain smile conceals the highest card
Beyond this place the rains are falling hard
Falling hard
Falling hard
song performed by by Heaven 17
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A King
I never wanted life like a king
I always wanted just to be as normal as I can be
Though the powers I have can make me a king
Yet I lay down my shield and just be normal
I have all the answers to the world people cant find
But the answer are too complicated for them to realize
Still I hid behind that bush pretending so innocent
Until they really knew what love is all about
I don’t have the power of muscles, nor the power to change
Behind all us are the power we never thought we could have
A power we are so much afraid of
For sometimes the power can cause pain within.
I failed before using that power
I may have used it too much, or I have used it less
But into learnings I finally found the real use of it
The reason why answers have been revealed
Magic it may sound… but it is just LOVE
I may not be as wise as others, but enough to be in love
I may not be as good as others, , , but knows the right to love
That’s the only power I can show to all
But I wouldn’t recognize it by then
Until you found the one who can unleash the hidden key
The one you’ll fall inlove with, the one that is forever
And I wouldn’t be this much confidence if you didn’t came
You are the key to the power I had my sweet
The key to prove things exist not only that is visible by eyes
You make love once more had a meaning for the world
poem by Mark Anthony Mendoza
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As When From Dreams Awaking
AS when from dreams awaking
The dim forms float away
Whose visioned smiles were making
Our darkness bright as day;
We vainly strive, while weeping,
From their shining spirit track,
(Where they fled while we were sleeping,)
To call those dear ones back!
Like the stars, some power divides them
From a world of want and pain;
They are there, but daylight hides them,
And we look for them in vain.
For a while we dwell with sadness,
On the beauty of that dream,
Then turn, and hail with gladness
The light of morning's beam.
So, when memory's power is wringing
Our lonely hearts to tears,
Dim forms around us bringing
That brightened former years:
Fond looks and low words spoken,
Which those dreamy days could boast,
Rise; till the spell be broken,
We forget that they are lost!
But when the hour of darkness rolls
Like heavy night away;
And peace is stealing o'er our souls,
Like the dawn of summer day:
The dim sweet forms that used to bless,
Seem stealing from us too;
We loved them-but joy's sunniness
Hath hid them from our view!
Oh could day beam eternally,
And Memory's power cease,
This world, a world of light would be,
Our hearts were worlds of peace:
But dreams of joy return with night,
And dwell upon the past-
And every grief that clouds our light,
Reminds us of the last!
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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All Power
If I could take the world
into my world;
If I could be God-like
what would I do
with my All-Power?
Would I make Peace
World-Wide?
What of Poverty?
I could gather all riches
to my self,
make my friends powerful or rich
or both;
help my parents?
Ask for more Power?
Use my Power to
make more Power?
What would I do with
All Power to do Anything?
Would I ask for Love?
Force someone to Love
me too?
I don't like All-Power
as I think about it.
What would I choose?
Could I have a few powers?
One or two?
All at the same time?
But even so
I would be
the only one.
and maybe lonely?
But if I could
and the price is lonely
why wouldn't I?
.
To have that power
would get me back
now
where I am now
lonely.
What good then
All-Power?
This will take
some thinking
out.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Placed In Your Power...
Placed, in Your Power … Are Promises
Placed, in Your Power … Are Poultices
Placed, in Your Power … Are Prodigies
Placed, in Your Power … Are Possibilities
Placed in Your Power, is my Prolonging
Placed in Your Power, is my Performing
Placed in Your Power, is my Preparing
Placed in Your Power, is my Preferring
Placed in Your Power, is my Paternal Name
Placed in Your Power, is when Privileged Came
Placed in Your Power, is my Posturing
Placed in Your Power, is my Proverbing
Placed, in Your Power is This Pearl Moon
Polished like Pewter, in Deep Purple Room
Placed, in Your Power is… Precious Time
Points of No Return and … Past Our Prime
Placed, in Your Power is… my Patience – Soon
Placed, in Your Power is Pam’s Pregnant Womb
Placed, in Your Power is The Preacher’s Prize
Placed, in Your Power… is Path to Paradise
Placed, in Your Power is … The Perfection
Placed, in Your Power is … The Protection
Placed, in Your Power is The Position… Plus
Placed, in Your Power is … The Purpose of Us
Placed, in Your Power, is … The Pure-Pleasure
Phases Out Phony, Polluted, and Plastic Peer-Pressure
Placed, in Your Power is … Permanent Productivity
Your Power, Has The Part… to Produce Panache - Proclivity
Placed, in Your Power are: Pertinent Pens and Pages
Placed, in Your Power, means - not Pinched but Pervasive
Placed, in Your Power is … Potently - Persuasive
Placed, in Your Power is … Posterity - Progressive
Placed, in Your Power … Are Poems and Prose
Placed, in Your Power is … This Pink Primrose…
… and Periwinkles, Petunias, Plums, Peaches and Pears
Partridges, Peacocks, and … Passionate People in Pairs
Placed, in Your Power is … Our Paramount Peace
Placed, in Your Power is … All Our … Please!
… and Public Praise… Private Prayers and Perpetual Psalms
For Each Particular Portrait, is in The Power of Your Palm
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Midnight Mass for the Dying Year
Yes, the Year is growing old,
And his eye is pale and bleared!
Death, with frosty hand and cold,
Plucks the old man by the beard,
Sorely, sorely!
The leaves are falling, falling,
Solemnly and slow;
Caw! caw! the rooks are calling,
It is a sound of woe,
A sound of woe!
Through woods and mountain passes
The winds, like anthems, roll;
They are chanting solemn masses,
Singing, "Pray for this poor soul,
Pray, pray!"
And the hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain,
And patter their doleful prayers;
But their prayers are all in vain,
All in vain!
There he stands in the foul weather,
The foolish, fond Old Year,
Crowned with wild flowers and with heather,
Like weak, despised Lear,
A king, a king!
Then comes the summer-like day,
Bids the old man rejoice!
His joy! his last! O, the man gray
Loveth that ever-soft voice,
Gentle and low.
To the crimson woods he saith,
To the voice gentle and low
Of the soft air, like a daughter's breath,
"Pray do not mock me so!
Do not laugh at me!"
And now the sweet day is dead;
Cold in his arms it lies;
No stain from its breath is spread
Over the glassy skies,
No mist or stain!
Then, too, the Old Year dieth,
And the forests utter a moan,
Like the voice of one who crieth
In the wilderness alone,
"Vex not his ghost!"
Then comes, with an awful roar,
Gathering and sounding on,
The storm-wind from Labrador,
The wind Euroclydon,
The storm-wind!
Howl! howl! and from the forest
Sweep the red leaves away!
Would, the sins that thou abhorrest,
O Soul! could thus decay,
And be swept away!
For there shall come a mightier blast,
There shall be a darker day;
And the stars, from heaven down-cast
Like red leaves be swept away!
Kyrie, eleyson!
Christe, eleyson!
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Let It Be Me
Sticks and stones
Battle zones
A single light bulb
On a single thread for the black
Sirens wail
History fails
Rose-colored glass
Begins to age and crack
While the politicians shadowbox
The power ring
In an endless split decision
Never solve anything
From a neighbors distant land
I heard the strain of the common man
Let it be me
(this is not a fighting song)
Let it be me
(not a wrong for a wrong)
Let it be me
If the world is night
Shine my life like a light
Well the world seems spent
And the president
Has no good idea
Of who the masses are
Well Im one of them
And Im among friends
Were trying to see beyond
The fences in our own backyards
Ive seen the kingdoms blow
Like ashes in the winds of change
But the power of truth
Is the fuel for the flame
So the darker the ages get
Theres a stronger beacon yet
Let it be me
(this is not a fighting song)
Let it be me
(not a wrong for a wrong)
Let it be me
If the world is night
Shine my life like a light
In the kind word you speak
In the turn of the cheek
When your vision stays clear
In the face of your fear
Then you see turning out a light switch
Is their only power
When we stand like spotlights
In a mighty tower
All for one and one for all
Then we sing the common call
Let it be me
(this is not a fighting song)
Let it be me
(not a wrong for a wrong)
Let it be me
If the world is night
Shine my life like a light
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Invocation
I called on dreams and visions, to disclose
That which is veil'd from waking thought; conjured
Eternity, as men constrain a ghost
To appear and answer. ~ WORDSWORTH.
Answer me, burning stars of night!
Where is the spirit gone,
That past the reach of human sight,
As a swift breeze hath flown?–
And the stars answer'd me–'We roll
In light and power on high;
But, of the never-dying soul,
Ask that which cannot die.'
Oh! many-toned and chainless wind!
Thou art a wanderer free;
Tell me if thou its place canst find,
Far over mount and sea?–
And the wind murmur'd in reply,
'The blue deep I have cross'd,
And met its barks and billows high,
But not what thou hast lost.'
Ye clouds, that gorgeously repose
Around the setting sun,
Answer! have ye a home for those
Whose earthly race is run?
The bright clouds answer'd–'We depart,
We vanish from the sky;
Ask what is deathless in thy heart,
For that which cannot die.'
Speak then, thou voice of God within,
Thou of the deep, low tone!
Answer me, thro' life's restless din,
Where is the spirit flown?
And the voice answer'd–'Be thou still!
Enough to know is given;
Clouds, winds, and stars their part fulfil,
Thine is to trust in Heaven.'
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perseverance
In The Wake This Storm I See Nothing But Suffering. Its Gods Punishment To The Foolish Man Who Think Nothing Can Touch Them. Among The Immortals. Playing Games With Millions Of Lives. Just Another Number In This World. Just An Stupid Una-pathetic Ignorant Person. I Just Cant Take It No More. Time To Bring Down The Monument. Time To Tear That Fancy Little Mansion That Your Always Held Up In. I Want You Look Into This Child's Eyes Explain To Him Why We Have To Suffer While You Live Good Life. Whats Makes You So God Special. Is It Money, Power, Or Just Plain Ignorance? We Are The People. We Built It And We Can Take It Away. Just Take It All Away. March Up To You Front Door Light A Match Touch A Cocktail Throw And Watch It Burn. Call It Crime If You But It Most Certainly Won't Bring It Back Anymore Then We Will Get Any Richer. So What's The Point You May Ask.. Someone Will Just Take Your Place. Its For The Greater Substance Of Society. Its To Point Out Were Not Dead Or Broken. Battered And Beaten Just Maybe. But It Wont Stop Us Now. No Let Perseverance Sit In Our Hearts And Stew This Is True Power. Just Look At It In All Its Spender. Its Within Me. Its In You. Waiting. Sustaining Life As We Know It. And The More Were Punished The Stronger It Gets.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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