Top 11 Best Powerful Poems About Life

Powerful Poems About Life

Top 11 Best Powerful Poems about Life | Enjoy & Share with your Friends

A Psalm Of Life - Poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.


Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.


Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.


Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.


In the world’s broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!


Trust no Future, howe’er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,— act in the living Present!

Heart within, and God o’erhead!


Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And, departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;


Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o’er life’s solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.


Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.



The Life That I Have - Poem by Leo Marks

The life that I have

Is all that I have

And the life that I have

Is yours


The love that I have

Of the life that I have

Is yours and yours and yours.


A sleep I shall have

A rest I shall have

Yet death will be but a pause

For the peace of my years

In the long green grass

Will be yours and yours and yours.



Life - Poem by Charlotte Bronte

LIFE, believe, is not a dream

So dark as sages say;

Oft a little morning rain

Foretells a pleasant day.

Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,

But these are transient all;

If the shower will make the roses bloom,

O why lament its fall ?


Rapidly, merrily,

Life's sunny hours flit by,

Gratefully, cheerily,

Enjoy them as they fly !


What though Death at times steps in

And calls our Best away ?

What though sorrow seems to win,

O'er hope, a heavy sway ?

Yet hope again elastic springs,

Unconquered, though she fell;

Still buoyant are her golden wings,

Still strong to bear us well.

Manfully, fearlessly,

The day of trial bear,

For gloriously, victoriously,

Can courage quell despair !



Life In A Love - Poem by Robert Browning

Escape me?



While I am I, and you are you,

So long as the world contains us both,

Me the loving and you the loth

While the one eludes, must the other pursue.

My life is a fault at last, I fear:

It seems too much like a fate, indeed!

Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.

But what if I fail of my purpose here?

It is but to keep the nerves at strain,

To dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall,

And, baffled, get up and begin again,---

So the chace takes up one's life ' that's all.

While, look but once from your farthest bound

At me so deep in the dust and dark,

No sooner the old hope goes to ground

Than a new one, straight to the self-same mark,

I shape me---





O Me! O Life! - Poem by Walt Whitman

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;

Of the endless trains of the faithless--of cities fill'd with the


Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I,

and who more faithless?)

Of eyes that vainly crave the light--of the objects mean--of the

struggle ever renew'd;

Of the poor results of all--of the plodding and sordid crowds I see

around me;

Of the empty and useless years of the rest--with the rest me


The question, O me! so sad, recurring--What good amid these, O me, O





That you are here--that life exists, and identity;

That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.



The Pleasures Of Ordinary Life - Poem by Judith Viorst

I've had my share of necessary losses,

Of dreams I know no longer can come true.

I'm done now with the whys and the becauses.

It's time to make things good, not just make do.

It's time to stop complaining and pursue

The pleasures of an ordinary life.


I used to rail against my compromises.

I yearned for the wild music, the swift race.

But happiness arrived in new disguises:

Sun lighting a child's hair. A friend's embrace.

Slow dancing in a safe and quiet place.

The pleasures of an ordinary life.


I'll have no trumpets, triumphs, trails of glory.

It seems the woman I've turned out to be

Is not the heroine of some grand story.

But I have learned to find the poetry

In what my hands can touch, my eyes can see.

The pleasures of an ordinary life.


Young fantasies of magic and of mystery

Are over. But they really can't compete

With all we've built together: A long history.

Connections that help render us complete.

Ties that hold and heal us. And the sweet,

Sweet pleasures of an ordinary life.



What Is Life? - Poem by John Clare

And what is Life? An hour-glass on the run,

A mist retreating from the morning sun,

A busy, bustling, still-repeated dream.

Its length? A minute's pause, a moment's thought.

And Happiness? A bubble on the stream,

That in the act of seizing shrinks to nought.


And what is Hope? The puffing gale of morn,

That of its charms divests the dewy lawn,

And robs each flow'ret of its gem -and dies;

A cobweb, hiding disappointment's thorn,

Which stings more keenly through the thin disguise.


And what is Death? Is still the cause unfound?

That dark mysterious name of horrid sound?

A long and lingering sleep the weary crave.

And Peace? Where can its happiness abound?

Nowhere at all, save heaven and the grave.


Then what is Life? When stripped of its disguise,

A thing to be desired it cannot be;

Since everything that meets our foolish eyes

Gives proof sufficient of its vanity.

'Tis but a trial all must undergo,

To teach unthankful mortals how to prize

That happiness vain man's denied to know,

Until he's called to claim it in the skies.



A Plain Life - Poem by William Henry Davies

No idle gold -- since this fine sun, my friend,

Is no mean miser, but doth freely spend.


No prescious stones -- since these green mornings show,

Without a charge, their pearls where'er I go.


No lifeless books -- since birds with their sweet tongues

Will read aloud to me their happier songs.


No painted scenes -- since clouds can change their skies

A hundred times a day to please my eyes.


No headstrong wine -- since, when I drink, the spring

Into my eager ears will softly sing.


No surplus clothes -- since every simple beast

Can teach me to be happy with the least.



New Love, New Life - Poem by Amy Levy



She, who so long has lain

Stone-stiff with folded wings,

Within my heart again

The brown bird wakes and sings.


Brown nightingale, whose strain

Is heard by day, by night,

She sings of joy and pain,

Of sorrow and delight.





'Tis true,--in other days

Have I unbarred the door;

He knows the walks and ways--

Love has been here before.


Love blest and love accurst

Was here in days long past;

This time is not the first,

But this time is the last.



Life And Art - Poem by Emma Lazarus

Not while the fever of the blood is strong,

The heart throbs loud, the eyes are veiled, no less

With passion than with tears, the Muse shall bless

The poet-sould to help and soothe with song.

Not then she bids his trembling lips express

The aching gladness, the voluptuous pain.

Life is his poem then; flesh, sense, and brain

One full-stringed lyre attuned to happiness.

But when the dream is done, the pulses fail,

The day's illusion, with the day's sun set,

He, lonely in the twilight, sees the pale

Divine Consoler, featured like Regret,

Enter and clasp his hand and kiss his brow.

Then his lips ope to sing--as mine do now.



My Life Closed Twice - Poem by Emily Dickinson

My life closed twice before its close--

It yet remains to see

If Immortality unveil

A third event to me


So huge, so hopeless to conceive

As these that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven,

And all we need of hell.

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