History poems
/ page 6 of 51 /
Yardley Oak
© William Cowper
Survivor sole, and hardly such, of all
That once lived here, thy brethren, at my birth,
Of The Dawn Of Freedom
© James Russell Lowell
Careless seems the great Avenger;
Historys lessons but recorded
Book Seventh [Residence in London]
© William Wordsworth
Returned from that excursion, soon I bade
Farewell for ever to the sheltered seats
Of gowned students, quitted hall and bower,
And every comfort of that privileged ground,
Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among
The unfenced regions of society.
Song
© Victor Marie Hugo
He shines through history like a sun.
For thrice five years
He bore bright victory through the dun
King-shadowed spheres;
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
The Deportation
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
In vain, in vain, in vain!
Conqueror, you are conquered: though you grind
These bodies, heel on neck; and though you twist
Alfred And Janet
© Robert Bloomfield
At thirteen she was all that Heaven could send,
My nurse, my faithful clerk, my lively friend;
Last at my pillow when I sunk to sleep,
First on my threshold soon as day could peep:
I heard her happy to her heart's desire,
With clanking pattens, and a roaring fire.
The Circling Hearths
© Roderic Quinn
MY Countrymen, though we are young as yet
With little history, nought to show
Edith: A Tale Of The Woods
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
"Thou'rt passing from the lake's green side,
And the hunter's hearth away;
For the time of flowers, for the summer's pride,
Daughter! thou canst not stay.
Wilson
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The lowliest born of all the land,
He wrung from Fate's reluctant hand
The gifts which happier boyhood claims;
And, tasting on a thankless soil
The bitter bread of unpaid toil,
He fed his soul with noble aims.
Nostalgia Of The Lakefronts
© Donald Justice
Cities burn behind us; the lake glitters.
A tall loudspeaker is announcing prizes;
Another, by the lake, the times of cruises.
Childhood, once vast with terrors and surprises,
Is fading to a landscape deep with distance
And always the sad piano in the distance,
In Verona.
© Robert Crawford
Juliet will never rise
In her passion's paradise;
Dust is in her ears and eyes.
And time too, as all men know,
Hannibal's Oath
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
AND the night was dark and calm,
There was not a breath of air,
The leaves of the grove were still,
As the presence of death were there;
The Australiad
© Mary Hannay Foott
Meanwhile the hardy Dutchmen came,as ancient charts attest,
Hartog, and Nuyts, and Carpenter, and Tasman, and the rest,
But found not forests rich in spice, nor market for their wares,
Nor servile tribes to toil oertasked mid pestilential airs,
And deemed it scarce worth while to claim so poor a continent,
But with their slumberous tropic isles thenceforward were content.
The Minstrel ; Or, The Progress Of Genius - Book II.
© James Beattie
I.
Of chance or change O let not man complain,
Else shall he never never cease to wail:
For, from the imperial dome, to where the swain
Farmer Whipple--Bachelor
© James Whitcomb Riley
It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four,
Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more--
A-lookin' glad and smilin'! And they's none o' you can say
That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day!
After Reading J. T. Gilberts "The History Of Dublin."
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Long have I loved the beauty of thy streets,
Fair Dublin: long, with unavailing vows,
To William Mitford, Esq.
© Henry James Pye
Mitford, the candid Critic of my lays,
Who oft when wild my careless Muse would sing
