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Ypres

© Robert Laurence Binyon

On the road to Ypres, on the long road,
Marching strong,
We'll sing a song of Ypres, of her glory
And her wrong.

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Victoria

© George Essex Evans

White Star of Womanhood, whose rays

 Thro’ years of peace and years of stress

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The Hamadryad

© Walter Savage Landor

  Her lips were seal’d; her head sank on his breast.  
’T is said that laughs were heard within the wood:
But who should hear them? and whose laughs? and why?

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A Good Time Going!

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

BRAVE singer of the coming time,

Sweet minstrel of the joyous present,

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To My Son

© Anonymous

MY son, at last the fateful day has come
  For us to part. The hours have nearly run.
May God return you safe to land and home;
  Yet, what God wills, so may His will be done.

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Welcome Home

© Thomas Hardy

To my native place
Bent upon returning,
Bosom all day burning
To be where my race
Well were known, 'twas much with me
There to dwell in amity.

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The Horse and Cart Ferry

© Henry Lawson

It was old Jerry Brown,

  Who’d an office in town,

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A Zacinto

© Ugo Foscolo

Some will not return: I too
offend the powers that be, am banned
from home. Oh maternal land,
my words are all I have to send to you

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The Loving Ballad Of Lord Bateman

© Andrew Lang

Lord Bateman was a noble lord,
A noble lord of high degree;
He shipped himself all aboard of a ship,
Some foreign country for to see.

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Don Juan: Canto The Eighth

© George Gordon Byron

Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!

These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,

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Spirit Of The Everlasting Boy

© Henry Van Dyke

ODE FOR THE HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF LAWRENCEVILLE SCHOOL

June 11, 1910

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The Orphans' New Year's Gift

© Arthur Rimbaud

The room is full of shadow; you can hear, indistinctly, the sad soft whispering of two children.

Their foreheads lean forward, still heavy with dreams, beneath the long white bed-curtain

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After Release From Prison

© Nazim Hikmet

Awake.

Where are you?

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The Prodigal Son

© Edith Nesbit

COME home, come home, for your eyes are sore
With the glare of the noonday sun,
And nothing looks as it did before,
And the best of the day is done.

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The Apollyonists - Canto 1

© Phineas Fletcher

I

Of men, nay beasts; worse, monsters; worst of all,

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For An Autumn festival

© John Greenleaf Whittier

The Persian's flowery gifts, the shrine
Of fruitful Ceres, charm no more;
The woven wreaths of oak and pine
Are dust along the Isthmian shore.

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Evangeline: Part The Second. I.

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

MANY a weary year had passed since the burning of Grand-Pré,

When on the falling tide the freighted vessels departed,

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A Sunset at Les Eboulements

© Archibald Lampman

Broad shadows fall. On all the mountain side

  The scythe-swept fields are silent. Slowly home

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The Trail-Makers

© Henry Herbert Knibbs

North  and west along the coast among the misty islands,  

 Sullen in the grip of night and smiling in the day:  

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Crazed

© Sydney Thompson Dobell

'The Spring again hath started on the course
Wherein she seeketh Summer thro' the Earth.
I will arise and go upon my way.
It may be that the leaves of Autumn hid
His footsteps from me; it may be the snows.