Freedom poems
/ page 22 of 111 /Hands All Round
© Alfred Tennyson
First pledge our Queen this solemn night,
Then drink to England, every guest;
The War After The War
© John Le Gay Brereton
What shall we say, who, drawing indolent breath,
Mark the quick pant of those who, full of hate,
Drive home the steel or loose the shrieking shell,
Heroes or Huns, who smite the grin of death
And laugh or curse beneath the blows of fate,
Swept madly to the thudding heart of hell?
Incription to Milton
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The new world honors him whose lofty plea
For England's freedom made her own more sure,
Whose song, immortal as its theme, shall be
Their common freehold while both worlds endure.
The Birthday Wreath
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Blossom and greenness, making all
The winter birthday tropical,
And the plain Quaker parlors gay,
Have gone from bracket, stand, and wall;
We saw them fade, and droop, and fall,
And laid them tenderly away.
Nauhaught, The Deacon
© John Greenleaf Whittier
NAUHAUGHT, the Indian deacon, who of old
Dwelt, poor but blameless, where his narrowing Cape
The Proclamation
© John Greenleaf Whittier
SAINT PATRICK, slave to Milcho of the herds
Of Ballymena, wakened with these words:
To the Earl of Warwick, On the Death of Mr. Addison
© Thomas Tickell
. If, dumb too long, the drooping Muse hath stay'd,
And left her debt to Addison unpaid;
Hope
© William Cowper
Ask what is human life -- the sage replies,
With disappointment lowering in his eyes,
The Revolt Of Islam: Canto I-XII
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
There is no danger to a man, that knows
What life and death is: there's not any law
Exceeds his knowledge; neither is it lawful
That he should stoop to any other law.
-Chapman.
The Summons
© John Greenleaf Whittier
MY ear is full of summer sounds,
Of summer sights my languid eye;
June On The Merrimac
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O dwellers in the stately towns,
What come ye out to see?
This common earth, this common sky,
This water flowing free?
John Underhill
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A score of years had come and gone
Since the Pilgrims landed on Plymouth stone,
When Captain Underhill, bearing scars
From Indian ambush and Flemish wars,
Left three-hilled Boston and wandered down,
East by north, to Cocheco town.
On The Star Of 'The Legion Of Honour' (From The French)
© George Gordon Byron
Star of the brave!--whose beam hath shed
Such glory o'er the quick and dead
Thou radiant and adored deceit!
Which millions rush'd in arms to greet,
Wild meteor of immortal birth;
Why rise in Heaven to set on Earth?
The Vision Of The Maid Of Orleans - The Third Book
© Robert Southey
The Maiden, musing on the Warrior's words,
Turn'd from the Hall of Glory. Now they reach'd
Astraea: The Balance Of Illusions
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Dear to his age were memories such as these,
Leaves of his June in life's autumnal breeze;
Such were the tales that won my boyish ear,
Told in low tones that evening loves to hear.