Fear poems
/ page 45 of 454 /Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XII - Aswa-Medha - (Sacrifice Of The Horse)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
The real Epic ends with the war and the funerals of the deceased
warriors. Much of what follows in the original Sanscrit poem is
The Children Of The Foam
© William Wilfred Campbell
You may hear our hailing, hailing,
For the voices of our home;
Ride we, ride we, ever home,
Haunted children of the foam.
The Face Of Qana
© Nizar Qabbani
The face of Qana
Pale, like that of Jesus
and the sea breeze of April…
Rains of blood.. and tears..
2
What The Spider Heard
© Weldon Kees
Will there be time for eggnogs and eclogues
In the place where were going?
Said the spider to the fly.
Tam Lin
© Andrew Lang
O I forbid you, maidens a',
That wear gowd on your hair,
To come or gae by Carterhaugh,
For young Tam Lin is there.
It Is You
© Paul Verlaine
It is you, it is you, poor better thoughts!
The needful hope, shame for the ancient blots,
A Poem Served To Order
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THE Caliph ordered up his cook,
And, scowling with a fearful look
That meant,--We stand no gammon,--
"To-morrow, just at two," he said,
"Hassan, our cook, will lose his head,
Or serve us up a salmon."
A Legend Of Brittany - Part Second
© James Russell Lowell
I
As one who, from the sunshine and the green,
Labyrinth As The Erasure Of Cries Heard Once Within It Or: (Mr. Bones I Succeeded Later)
© Larry Levis
Is dog eat dog out dere'Big Business, Mr. Bones.
You know what I'm doing now? I'm watching the Complete
Poems of Hart Crane as they are slowly fed
Into a pulping machine in East Bayonne.
The Inevitable
© Sarah Knowles Bolton
I LIKE the man who faces what he must
With step triumphant and a heart of cheer;
Trivia ; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London : Book III
© John Gay
Of Walking the Streets by Night.
O Trivia, goddess, leave these low abodes,
Grief
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Grief is like a child,
Led with relentless hand
By a strange nurse, whose face
Seems never to have smiled,
Upon the Late Storm
© Edmund Waller
[And Death of His Highness Ensuing the Same.]
We must resign! Heaven his great soul does claim
Mother and Daughter- Sonnet Sequence
© Augusta Davies Webster
Oh goddess head! Oh innocent brave eyes!
Oh curved and parted lips where smiles are rare
And sweetness ever! Oh smooth shadowy hair
Gathered around the silence of her brow!
Child, I'd needs love thy beauty stranger-wise:
And oh the beauty of it, being thou!
If I Forget Thee, O Jerusalem
© Jean Ingelow
'Many,' methought, 'and rich
They must have been, so long their chronicle.
Perhaps the world was fuller then of folk,
For ships at sea are few that near us now.'
The Temple
© Virna Sheard
Enter the temple beautiful! The house not made with hands!
Rain-washed and green, wind-swept and clean,
Beneath the blue it stands,
And no cathedral anywhere
Seemeth so holy or so fair.
Missing
© Katharine Tynan
He is "Missing," and forlorn
Drag her days in grief and pain.
Every morn a hope is born,
Only to be lost again.
Rural Elegance, An Ode to the Late Duchess of Somerset
© William Shenstone
While orient skies restore the day,
And dew-drops catch the lucid ray;
Amid the sprightly scenes of morn
Will aught the Muse inspire?
Oh! peace to yonder clamorous horn
That drowns the sacred lyre!
The Two Dreams
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
I WILL that if I say a heavy thing
Your tongues forgive me; seeing ye know that spring
King David
© Stephen Vincent Benet
David sang to his hook-nosed harp:
"The Lord God is a jealous God!
His violent vengeance is swift and sharp!
And the Lord is King above all gods!