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/ page 13 of 465 /Keep the Home Fires Burning (Till the Boys Come Home)
© Ford Lena Guilbert
Keep the Home Fires Burning,While your hearts are yearning,Though your lads are far awayThey dream of home
Oak and Olive
© Flecker James Elroy
I And bred in Gloucestershire,I walked in Hellas years ago With friends in white attire:And I remember how my soul Drank wine as pure as fire.
Trash
© Fiorentino Jon Paul
trash in the mind trash of the world man is half trash all trash in the grave --Allen Ginsberg
The Petition for an Absolute Retreat
© Anne Finch - Countess of Winchilsea
(Inscribed to the Right Honourable Catharine Countess of Thanet, mentioned in the poem under the name of Arminda)
The Women of the West
© George Essex Evans
They left the vine-wreathed cottage and the mansion on the hill,The houses in the busy streets where life is never still,The pleasures of the city, and the friends they cherished best:For love they faced the wilderness -- the Women of the West
Song
© Ebenezer Elliott
Child, is thy father dead? Father is gone!Why did they tax his bread? God's will be done!Mother has sold her bed;Better to die than wed!Where shall she lay her head? Home we have none!
Ten Precepts from Dhammapada
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
Return Love for Hatred.1.2 Hatred lives and mortal strife;1.3Love return for bitter hatred,1.4 Hatred dies, and sweet is life! (5)
Ode to the Virginian Voyage
© Michael Drayton
You brave heroic minds,Worthy your country's name,That honour still pursue,Go and subdue!Whilst loit'ring hindsLurk here at home with shame.
The Guards Came Through
© Doyle Arthur Conan
Men of the Twenty-first Up by the Chalk Pit Wood,Weak with our wounds and our thirst, Wanting our sleep and our food,After a day and a night
Twicknam Garden
© John Donne
Blasted with sighs, and surrounded with tears, Hither I come to seek the spring, And at mine eyes, and at mine ears,Receive such balms as else cure every thing; But oh, self-traitor, I do bringThe spider love, which transubstantiates all, And can convert manna to gall,And that this place may thoroughly be thoughtTrue paradise, I have the serpent brought
To the Countess of Bedford [Madam, Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right...]
© John Donne
Madam,Reason is our soul's left hand, faith her right, By these we reach divinity, that's you;Their loves, who have the blessing of your sight, Grew from their reason, mine from fair faith grew.
To Sir Henry Wotton [Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls...]
© John Donne
Sir, more than kisses, letters mingle souls;For thus, friends absent speak
Love's Progress
© John Donne
Whoever loves, if he do not proposeThe right true end of love, he's one that goesTo sea for nothing but to make him sick
The Autumnal
© John Donne
No spring, nor summer beauty hath such graceAs I have seen in one autumnal face;Young beauties force our love, and that's a rape;This doth but counsel, yet you cannot scape