Get Your Premium Membership

Best Famous Powers Of Darkness Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Powers Of Darkness poems. This is a select list of the best famous Powers Of Darkness poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Powers Of Darkness poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of powers of darkness poems.

Search and read the best famous Powers Of Darkness poems, articles about Powers Of Darkness poems, poetry blogs, or anything else Powers Of Darkness poem related using the PoetrySoup search engine at the top of the page.

See Also:
Written by Anne Bronte | Create an image from this poem

Music on Christmas Morning

 Music I love -­ but never strain
Could kindle raptures so divine,
So grief assuage, so conquer pain,
And rouse this pensive heart of mine -­
As that we hear on Christmas morn,
Upon the wintry breezes borne.
Though Darkness still her empire keep, And hours must pass, ere morning break; From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep, That music kindly bids us wake: It calls us, with an angel's voice, To wake, and worship, and rejoice; To greet with joy the glorious morn, Which angels welcomed long ago, When our redeeming Lord was born, To bring the light of Heaven below; The Powers of Darkness to dispel, And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.
While listening to that sacred strain, My raptured spirit soars on high; I seem to hear those songs again Resounding through the open sky, That kindled such divine delight, In those who watched their flocks by night.
With them, I celebrate His birth -­ Glory to God, in highest Heaven, Good-will to men, and peace on Earth, To us a Saviour-king is given; Our God is come to claim His own, And Satan's power is overthrown! A sinless God, for sinful men, Descends to suffer and to bleed; Hell must renounce its empire then; The price is paid, the world is freed, And Satan's self must now confess, That Christ has earned a Right to bless: Now holy Peace may smile from heaven, And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring: The captive's galling bonds are riven, For our Redeemer is our king; And He that gave his blood for men Will lead us home to God again.


Written by Rudyard Kipling | Create an image from this poem

One Viceroy Resigns

 So here's your Empire.
No more wine, then? Good.
We'll clear the Aides and khitmatgars away.
(You'll know that fat old fellow with the knife -- He keeps the Name Book, talks in English too, And almost thinks himself the Government.
) O Youth, Youth, Youth! Forgive me, you're so young.
Forty from sixty -- twenty years of work And power to back the working.
Ay def mi! You want to know, you want to see, to touch, And, by your lights, to act.
It's natural.
I wonder can I help you.
Let me try.
You saw -- what did you see from Bombay east? Enough to frighten any one but me? Neat that! It frightened Me in Eighty-Four! You shouldn't take a man from Canada And bid him smoke in powder-magazines; Nor with a Reputation such as -- Bah! That ghost has haunted me for twenty years, My Reputation now full blown -- Your fault -- Yours, with your stories of the strife at Home, Who's up, who's down, who leads and who is led -- One reads so much, one hears so little here.
Well, now's your turn of exile.
I go back To Rome and leisure.
All roads lead to Rome, Or books -- the refuge of the destitute.
When you .
.
.
that brings me back to India.
See! Start clear.
I couldn't.
Egypt served my turn.
You'll never plumb the Oriental mind, And if you did it isn't worth the toil.
Think of a sleek French priest in Canada; Divide by twenty half-breeds.
Multiply By twice the Sphinx's silence.
There's your East, And you're as wise as ever.
So am I.
Accept on trust and work in darkness, strike At venture, stumble forward, make your mark, (It's chalk on granite), then thank God no flame Leaps from the rock to shrivel mark and man.
I'm clear -- my mark is made.
Three months of drought Had ruined much.
It rained and washed away The specks that might have gathered on my Name.
I took a country twice the size of France, And shuttered up one doorway in the North.
I stand by those.
You'll find that both will pay, I pledged my Name on both -- they're yours to-night.
Hold to them -- they hold fame enough for two.
I'm old, but I shall live till Burma pays.
Men there -- not German traders -- Crsthw-te knows -- You'll find it in my papers.
For the North Guns always -- quietly -- but always guns.
You've seen your Council? Yes, they'll try to rule, And prize their Reputations.
Have you met A grim lay-reader with a taste for coins, And faith in Sin most men withhold from God? He's gone to England.
R-p-n knew his grip And kicked.
A Council always has its H-pes.
They look for nothing from the West but Death Or Bath or Bournemouth.
Here's their ground.
They fight Until the middle classes take them back, One of ten millions plus a C.
S.
I.
Or drop in harness.
Legion of the Lost? Not altogether -- earnest, narrow men, But chiefly earnest, and they'll do your work, And end by writing letters to the Times, (Shall I write letters, answering H-nt-r -- fawn With R-p-n on the Yorkshire grocers? Ugh!) They have their Reputations.
Look to one -- I work with him -- the smallest of them all, White-haired, red-faced, who sat the plunging horse Out in the garden.
He's your right-hand man, And dreams of tilting W-ls-y from the throne, But while he dreams gives work we cannot buy; He has his Reputation -- wants the Lords By way of Frontier Roads.
Meantime, I think, He values very much the hand that falls Upon his shoulder at the Council table -- Hates cats and knows his business; which is yours.
Your business! twice a hundered million souls.
Your business! I could tell you what I did Some nights of Eighty-Five, at Simla, worth A Kingdom's ransom.
When a big ship drives, God knows to what new reef the man at the whee! Prays with the passengers.
They lose their lives, Or rescued go their way; but he's no man To take his trick at the wheel again -- that's worse Than drowning.
Well, a galled Mashobra mule (You'll see Mashobra) passed me on the Mall, And I was -- some fool's wife and ducked and bowed To show the others I would stop and speak.
Then the mule fell -- three galls, a hund-breadth each, Behind the withers.
Mrs.
Whatsisname Leers at the mule and me by turns, thweet thoul! "How could they make him carry such a load!" I saw -- it isn't often I dream dreams -- More than the mule that minute -- smoke and flame From Simla to the haze below.
That's weak.
You're younger.
You'll dream dreams before you've done.
You've youth, that's one -- good workmen -- that means two Fair chances in your favor.
Fate's the third.
I know what I did.
Do you ask me, "Preach"? I answer by my past or else go back To platitudes of rule -- or take you thus In confidence and say: "You know the trick: You've governed Canada.
You know.
You know!" And all the while commend you to Fate's hand (Here at the top on loses sight o' God), Commend you, then, to something more than you -- The Other People's blunders and .
.
.
that's all.
I'd agonize to serve you if I could.
It's incommunicable, like the cast That drops the tackle with the gut adry.
Too much -- too little -- there's your salmon lost! And so I tell you nothing --with you luck, And wonder -- how I wonder! -- for your sake And triumph for my own.
You're young, you're young, You hold to half a hundred Shibboleths.
I'm old.
I followed Power to the last, Gave her my best, and Power followed Me.
It's worth it -- on my sould I'm speaking plain, Here by the claret glasses! -- worth it all.
I gave -- no matter what I gave -- I win.
I know I win.
Mine's work, good work that lives! A country twice the size of France -- the North Safeguarded.
That's my record: sink the rest And better if you can.
The Rains may serve, Rupees may rise -- three pence will give you Fame -- It's rash to hope for sixpence -- If they rise Get guns, more guns, and lift the salt-tax.
Oh! I told you what the Congress meant or thought? I'll answer nothing.
Half a year will prove The full extent of time and thought you'll spare To Congress.
Ask a Lady Doctor once How little Begums see the light -- deduce Thence how the True Reformer's child is born.
It's interesting, curious .
.
.
and vile.
I told the Turk he was a gentlman.
I told the Russian that his Tartar veins Bled pure Parisian ichor; and he purred.
The Congress doesn't purr.
I think it swears.
You're young -- you'll swear to ere you've reached the end.
The End! God help you, if there be a God.
(There must be one to startle Gl-dst-ne's soul In that new land where all the wires are cut.
And Cr-ss snores anthems on the asphodel.
) God help you! And I'd help you if I could, But that's beyond me.
Yes, your speech was crude.
Sound claret after olives -- yours and mine; But Medoc slips into vin ordinaire.
(I'll drink my first at Genoa to your health.
) Raise it to Hock.
You'll never catch my style.
And, after all, the middle-classes grip The middle-class -- for Brompton talk Earl's Court.
Perhaps you're right.
I'll see you in the Times -- A quarter-column of eye-searing print, A leader once a quarter -- then a war; The Strand abellow through the fog: "Defeat!" "'Orrible slaughter!" While you lie awake And wonder.
Oh, you'll wonder ere you're free! I wonder now.
The four years slide away So fast, so fast, and leave me here alone.
R-y, C-lv-n, L-l, R-b-rts, B-ck, the rest, Princes and Powers of Darkness troops and trains, (I cannot sleep in trains), land piled on land, Whitewash and weariness, red rockets, dust, White snows that mocked me, palaces -- with draughts, And W-stl-nd with the drafts he couldn't pay, Poor W-ls-n reading his obituary.
Before he died, and H-pe, the man with bones, And A-tch-s-n a dripping mackintosh At Council in the Rains, his grating "Sirrr" Half drowned by H-nt-r's silky: "Bat my lahnd.
" Hunterian always: M-rsh-l spinning plates Or standing on his head; the Rent Bill's roar, A hundred thousand speeches, must red cloth, And Smiths thrice happy if I call them Jones, (I can't remember half their names) or reined My pony on the Mall to greet their wives.
More trains, more troops, more dust, and then all's done.
Four years, and I forget.
If I forget How will they bear me in their minds? The North Safeguarded -- nearly (R-b-rts knows the rest), A country twice the size of France annexed.
That stays at least.
The rest may pass -- may pass -- Your heritage -- and I can teach you nought.
"High trust," "vast honor," "interests twice as vast," "Due reverence to your Council" -- keep to those.
I envy you the twenty years you've gained, But not the five to follow.
What's that? One? Two! -- Surely not so late.
Good-night.
Don't dream.
Written by Christopher Smart | Create an image from this poem

For I Will Consider My Cat Jeoffry (excerpt Jubilate Agno)

 For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having consider'd God and himself he will consider his neighbour.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction, if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness, when God tells him he's a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For the dexterity of his defence is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For he is of the Lord's poor and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually--Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better.
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can set up with gravity which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master's bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is afraid of detection.
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly.
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Ichneumon-rat very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God's light about him both wax and fire.
For the Electrical fire is the spiritual substance, which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, tho he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.
Written by Christopher Smart | Create an image from this poem

Jubilate Agno (excerpt)

 For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For this is done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having consider'd God and himself he will consider his neighbour.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction, if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness, when God tells him he's a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For the dexterity of his defence is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For he is of the Lord's poor and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually--Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better.
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can set up with gravity which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master's bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is afraid of detection.
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly.
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Ichneumon-rat very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God's light about him both wax and fire.
For the Electrical fire is the spiritual substance, which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, tho he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.
Written by Christopher Smart | Create an image from this poem

from Jubilate Agno Fragment B lines 695-768

 For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
For then he leaps up to catch the musk, which is the blessing of God upon his prayer.
For he rolls upon prank to work it in.
For having done duty and received blessing he begins to consider himself.
For this he performs in ten degrees.
For first he looks upon his forepaws to see if they are clean.
For secondly he kicks up behind to clear away there.
For thirdly he works it upon stretch with the forepaws extended.
For fourthly he sharpens his paws by wood.
For fifthly he washes himself.
For sixthly he rolls upon wash.
For seventhly he fleas himself, that he may not be interrupted upon the beat.
For eighthly he rubs himself against a post.
For ninthly he looks up for his instructions.
For tenthly he goes in quest of food.
For having considered God and himself he will consider his neighbor.
For if he meets another cat he will kiss her in kindness.
For when he takes his prey he plays with it to give it a chance.
For one mouse in seven escapes by his dallying.
For when his day's work is done his business more properly begins.
For he keeps the Lord's watch in the night against the adversary.
For he counteracts the powers of darkness by his electrical skin and glaring eyes.
For he counteracts the Devil, who is death, by brisking about the life.
For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
For he will not do destruction if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he's a good Cat.
For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.
For the Lord commanded Moses concerning the cats at the departure of the Children of Israel from Egypt.
For every family had one cat at least in the bag.
For the English Cats are the best in Europe.
For he is the cleanest in the use of his forepaws of any quadruped.
For the dexterity of his defense is an instance of the love of God to him exceedingly.
For he is the quickest to his mark of any creature.
For he is tenacious of his point.
For he is a mixture of gravity and waggery.
For he knows that God is his Saviour.
For there is nothing sweeter than his peace when at rest.
For there is nothing brisker than his life when in motion.
For he is of the Lord's poor, and so indeed is he called by benevolence perpetually--Poor Jeoffry! poor Jeoffry! the rat has bit thy throat.
For I bless the name of the Lord Jesus that Jeoffry is better.
For the divine spirit comes about his body to sustain it in complete cat.
For his tongue is exceeding pure so that it has in purity what it wants in music.
For he is docile and can learn certain things.
For he can sit up with gravity, which is patience upon approbation.
For he can fetch and carry, which is patience in employment.
For he can jump over a stick, which is patience upon proof positive.
For he can spraggle upon waggle at the word of command.
For he can jump from an eminence into his master's bosom.
For he can catch the cork and toss it again.
For he is hated by the hypocrite and miser.
For the former is afraid of detection.
For the latter refuses the charge.
For he camels his back to bear the first notion of business.
For he is good to think on, if a man would express himself neatly.
For he made a great figure in Egypt for his signal services.
For he killed the Icneumon rat, very pernicious by land.
For his ears are so acute that they sting again.
For from this proceeds the passing quickness of his attention.
For by stroking of him I have found out electricity.
For I perceived God's light about him both wax and fire.
For the electrical fire is the spiritual substance which God sends from heaven to sustain the bodies both of man and beast.
For God has blessed him in the variety of his movements.
For, though he cannot fly, he is an excellent clamberer.
For his motions upon the face of the earth are more than any other quadruped.
For he can tread to all the measures upon the music.
For he can swim for life.
For he can creep.
Written by Isaac Watts | Create an image from this poem

Psalm 13

 Pleading with God under desertion.
How long, O Lord, shall I complain, Like one that seeks his God in vain? Canst thou thy face for ever hide, And I still pray, and be denied? Shall I for ever be forgot, As one whom thou regardest not Still shall my soul thine absence mourn, And still despair of thy return? How long shall my poor troubled breast Be with these anxious thoughts oppressed? And Satan, my malicious foe, Rejoice to see me sunk so low? Hear, Lord, and grant me quick relief, Before my death conclude my grief: If thou withhold thy heav'nly light, I sleep in everlasting night.
How will the powers of darkness boast, If but one praying soul be lost! But I have trusted in thy grace, And shall again behold thy face.
Whate'er my fears or foes suggest, Thou art my hope, my joy, my rest; My heart shall feel thy love, and raise My cheerful voice to songs of praise.