Freedom poems
/ page 75 of 111 /Flora Macivor's Song
© Sir Walter Scott
There is mist on the mountain, and night on the vale,
But more dark is the sleep of the sons of the Gael.
A stranger commanded â- it sunk on the land,
It has frozen each heart, and benumb'd every hand!
Thoughts Of A Soldier
© Edgar Albert Guest
Since men with life must purchase life
And some must die that more may live,
Elegy XXI. Taking a View of the Country From His Retirement
© William Shenstone
Thus Damon sung-What though unknown to praise,
Umbrageous coverts hide my Muse and me,
Or mid the rural shepherds flow my days?
Amid the rural shepherds, I am free.
The Spagnoletto. Act II
© Emma Lazarus
Ball in the Palace of DON JOHN. Dance. DON JOHN and MARIA
together. DON TOMMASO, ANNICCA. LORDS and LADIES, dancing or
promenading.
Woman!
© George Crabbe
Thus in extremes of cold and heat,
Where wandering man may trace his kind;
Wherever grief and want retreat,
In Woman they compassion find;
She makes the female breast her seat,
And dictates mercy to the mind.
Grandpa's Christmas
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In his great cushioned chair by the fender
An old man sits dreaming to-night,
The Herons Of Elmwood. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fifth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Warm and still is the summer night,
As here by the river's brink I wander;
White overhead are the stars, and white
The glimmering lamps on the hillside yonder.
Spring Song II
© Edith Nesbit
Small joy the greenness and grace of spring
To grey hard lives like our own can bring.
A drowning man cares little to think
Of the lights on the waves where he soon must sink.
A Poet! He Hath Put His Heart To School
© William Wordsworth
A poet!-He hath put his heart to school,
Nor dares to move unpropped upon the staff
Which art hath lodged within his hand-must laugh
By precept only, and shed tears by rule.
The Dead
© John Le Gay Brereton
Farewell, high-hearted friends, for God is dead
If such as you can die and fare not well
If when you fall your gallant spirit fail.
You are with us still, and can we be adread
Though hell gape, bloody-fanged and horrible?
Glory and hope of us who love you, Hail!
The Men Who Stuck To Me
© Henry Lawson
Some I never met and never knew their great but vain endeavour,
For my sake! And some were old mates whom I never more may see;
Never heard me, some I talked with; never saw me, some I walked with;
Blind and deaf, and dumb and foreign were the men who stuck to me.
Post-Prandial
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
"THE Dutch have taken Holland,"--so the schoolboys used to say;
The Dutch have taken Harvard,--no doubt of that to-day!
For the Wendells were low Dutchmen, and all their vrows were Vans;
And the Breitmanns are high Dutchmen, and here is honest Hans.
What The Poet Was Telling Himself In 1848
© Victor Marie Hugo
You mustn't seek out power, mustn't grab the helm
Your work lies elsewhere, spirit of another realm,
An After-Dinner Poem
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
IN narrowest girdle, O reluctant Muse,
In closest frock and Cinderella shoes,
Bound to the foot-lights for thy brief display,
One zephyr step, and then dissolve away!
Cease To Do Evil Learn To Do Well
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! thou whom sacred duty hither calls,
Some glorious hours in freedom's cause to dwell,
Read the mute lesson on thy prison walls,
"Cease to do evil-learn to do well."
America
© William Cullen Bryant
OH mother of a mighty race,
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!
The elder dames, thy haughty peers,
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame
And taunts of scorn they join thy name.