Sonnet 94: They that have power to hurt and will do none

Related poetry:

1. Sonnet XCIV They that have power to hurt and will do none, That do not do the thing they most do show, Who, moving others, are themselves as stone, Unmoved, cold, and to temptation slow, They rightly do inherit heaven’s graces And husband nature’s riches from expense; They are the lords and owners of their faces, Others […]...
2. Sonnet 150: O from what power hast thou this powerful might O, from what power hast thou this powerful might With insufficiency my heart to sway? To make me give the lie to my true sight, And swear that brightness doth not grace the day? Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, That in the very refuse of thy deeds There is such strength and […]...
3. Sonnet LXIX Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crown’d; But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
4. Sonnet 69: Those parts of thee that the world's eye doth view Those parts of thee that the world’s eye doth view Want nothing that the thought of hearts can mend; All tongues, the voice of souls, give thee that due, Utt’ring bare truth, even so as foes commend. Thy outward thus with outward praise is crowned, But those same tongues that give thee so thine own […]...
5. Sonnet 39 – Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace To look through and behind this mask of me (Against which years have beat thus blanchingly With their rains), and behold my soul’s true face, The dim and weary witness of life’s race,- Because thou hast the faith and love to see, Through that same soul’s […]...
6. Lotus Hurt by the Cold How many times, like lotus lilies risen Upon the surface of a river, there Have risen floating on my blood the rare Soft glimmers of my hope escaped from prison. So I am clothed all over with the light And sensitive beautiful blossoming of passion; Till naked for her in the finest fashion The flowers […]...
7. Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his fickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow’st. If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back, She keeps thee to this purpose, that […]...
8. Sonnet CXI O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer’s […]...
9. Sonnet 111: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdued To what it works in, like the dyer’s […]...
10. Sonnet CXI: O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide O, for my sake do you with Fortune chide, The guilty goddess of my harmful deeds, That did not better for my life provide Than public means which public manners breeds. Thence comes it that my name receives a brand, And almost thence my nature is subdu’d To what it works in, like the dyer’s […]...
11. Hurt Hawks I The broken pillar of the wing jags from the clotted shoulder, The wing trails like a banner in defeat, No more to use the sky forever but live with famine And pain a few days: cat nor coyote Will shorten the week of waiting for death, there is game without talons. He stands under […]...
12. A Weed is a flower in the wrong place A weed is a flower in the wrong place, A flower is a weed in the right place, If you were a weed in the right place You would be a flower; But seeing as you’re a weed in the wrong place You’re only a weed – Its high time someone pulled you out....
13. Weeds FROM the time of the early radishes To the time of the standing corn Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes. There are laws in the village against weeds. The law says a weed is wrong and shall be killed. The weeds say life is a white and lovely thing And the weeds come on and on in […]...
14. The Twenty Hoss-Power Shay You have heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day. And then, of a sudden, it up and bust, And all that was left was a mound of dust? Holmes-O. W.-told it well In a rhyme of his-what there was to […]...
15. The power to be true to You The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture Presumptuous of Your Place Of This Could Man deprive Me Himself the Heaven excel Whose invitation Yours reduced Until it showed too small...
16. I took my power in my hand I took my power in my hand And went AGAINST the world ‘Twas not so much as David had But I was twice as bold I aimed by pebble, but myself Was ALL the one that fell Was it Goliath was too large Or was myself too small?...
17. To be alive is Power To be alive is Power Existence in itself Without a further function Omnipotence Enough To be alive and Will! ‘Tis able as a God The Maker of Ourselves be what Such being Finitude!...
18. Power is a familiar growth Power is a familiar growth Not foreign not to be Beside us like a bland Abyss In every company Escape it there is but a chance When consciousness and clay Lean forward for a final glance Disprove that and you may...
19. The Flower Once in a golden hour I cast to earth a seed. Up there came a flower, The people said, a weed. To and fro they went Thro’ my garden bower, And muttering discontent Cursed me and my flower. Then it grew so tall It wore a crown of light, But thieves from o’er the wall […]...
20. Sonnet CXXIV If my dear love were but the child of state, It might for Fortune’s bastard be unfather’d’ As subject to Time’s love or to Time’s hate, Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gather’d. No, it was builded far from accident; It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls Under the blow of thralled discontent, […]...
21. Sonnet LXX That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater, being woo’d of time; For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
22. Sonnet 124: If my dear love were but the child of state If my dear love were but the child of state, It might for Fortune’s bastard be unfathered, As subject to Time’s love or to Time’s hate, Weeds among weeds, or flowers with flowers gathered. No, it was builded far from accident; It suffers not in smiling pomp, nor falls Under the blow of thralled discontent, […]...
23. Sonnet 70: That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, For slander’s mark was ever yet the fair; The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven’s sweetest air. So thou be good, slander doth but approve Thy worth the greater being wooed of time, For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love, […]...
24. The Power Of Song The foaming stream from out the rock With thunder roar begins to rush, The oak falls prostrate at the shock, And mountain-wrecks attend the gush. With rapturous awe, in wonder lost, The wanderer hearkens to the sound; From cliff to cliff he hears it tossed, Yet knows not whither it is bound: ‘Tis thus that […]...
25. Sonnet 67: Ah, wherefore with infection should he live Ah, wherefore with infection should he live, And with his presence grace impiety, That sin by him advantage should achieve, And lace it self with his society? Why should false painting imitate his cheek, And steal dead seeming of his living hue? Why should poor beauty indirectly seek Roses of shadow, since his rose is […]...
26. Sonnet 84: Who is it that says most, which can say more Who is it that says most, which can say more, Than this rich praise that you alone are you, In whose confine immurГЕd is the store Which should example where your equal grew? Lean penury within that pen doth dwell That to his subject lends not some small glory; But he that writes of you, […]...
27. Sonnet XCVI Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport; Both grace and faults are loved of more and less; Thou makest faults graces that to thee resort. As on the finger of a throned queen The basest jewel will be well esteem’d, So are those errors that […]...
28. Sonnet LXXXIV Who is it that says most? which can say more Than this rich praise, that you alone are you? In whose confine immured is the store Which should example where your equal grew. Lean penury within that pen doth dwell That to his subject lends not some small glory; But he that writes of you, […]...
29. Sonnet XXIII Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountain-tops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
30. Sonnet 33: Full many a glorious morning have I seen Full many a glorious morning have I seen Flatter the mountaintops with sovereign eye, Kissing with golden face the meadows green, Gilding pale streams with heavenly alchemy; Anon permit the basest clouds to ride With ugly rack on his celestial face, And from the forlorn world his visage hide, Stealing unseen to west with this […]...
31. Sonnet 96: Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness Some say thy fault is youth, some wantonness; Some say thy grace is youth and gentle sport; Both grace and faults are loved of more and less; Thou mak’st faults graces that to thee resort. As on the finger of a thronèd queen, The basest jewel will be well esteemed. So are those errors that […]...
32. Circe's Power I never turned anyone into a pig. Some people are pigs; I make them Look like pigs. I’m sick of your world That lets the outside disguise the inside. Your men weren’t bad men; Undisciplined life Did that to them. As pigs, Under the care of Me and my ladies, they Sweetened right up. Then […]...
33. Had I The Power That Have The Will HAD I the power that have the will, The enfeebled will – a modern curse – This book of mine should blossom still A perfect garden-ground of verse. White placid marble gods should keep Good watch in every shadowy lawn; And from clean, easy-breathing sleep The birds should waken me at dawn. – A fairy […]...
34. Sonnet CL O, from what power hast thou this powerful might With insufficiency my heart to sway? To make me give the lie to my true sight, And swear that brightness doth not grace the day? Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill, That in the very refuse of thy deeds There is such strength and […]...
35. The power of the Lake The power of the Lake lingers still So many years beyond its fascination Ending; it was there in the beginning, An unveiling of towering sensitivities, A flowering of gentle obsession. The town that grew in the lee Of the Lake expressed the same Thoughts although hard head bastards Bartered and fought for land, Trying to […]...
36. Owl power they say in the local sanctuary Owls are the stupidest creatures All this wisdom business is The mythological media at work But the shortest nosing into books Tells you even the mythic world Is bamboozled by the creature – no Two cultures being able to agree The bird was cherished by minerva Hebrews loathed it […]...
37. Power The mighty sound of forests murmuring In answer to the dread command; The stars that shudder when their king Extends his hand, His awful hand to bless, to curse; or moves Toward the dimmest den In the thick leaves, not known of loves Or nymphs or men; (Only the sylph’s frail gossamer may wave Their […]...
38. Healed of My Hurt Healed of my hurt, I laud the inhuman Sea Yea, bless the Angels Four that there convene; For healed I am even by the pitiless breath Distilled in wholesome dew named rosmarine....
39. Sonnet I THE partial Muse, has from my earliest hours, Smil’d on the rugged path I’m doom’d to tread, And still with sportive hand has snatch’d wild flowers, To weave fantastic garlands for my head: But far, far happier is the lot of those Who never learn’d her dear delusive art; Which, while it decks the head […]...
40. It ceased to hurt me, though so slow It ceased to hurt me, though so slow I could not feel the Anguish go But only knew by looking back That something had benumbed the Track Nor when it altered, I could say, For I had worn it, every day, As constant as the Childish frock I hung upon the Peg, at night. But […]...