Peace poems
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The Love Sonnets Of Proteus. Part II: To Juliet: XLV
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
THE SAME CONTINUED
Do you remember how I laughed at you
In the Beaulieu woods, and how I made my peace?
It was your thirtieth birthday, and you threw
Souvenir De La Nuit Du 4 (Memory Of The Night Of The 4th)
© Victor Marie Hugo
L'enfant avait reçu deux balles dans la tête.
Le logis était propre, humble, paisible, honnête ;
Of Hell And The Estate of Those Who Perish
© John Bunyan
hus, having show'd you what I see
Of heaven, I now will tell
You also, after search, what be
The damned wights of hell.
The Peace Maker
© Henry Lawson
It has a point of neither sex
But comes in guise of both,
And, doubly dangerous complex,
It is a thing to loathe
A lady with her sweet, sad smile,
A gentleman on oath.
Don Juan: Canto The Eleventh
© George Gordon Byron
When Bishop Berkeley said 'there was no matter,'
And proved it--'twas no matter what he said:
The Patriot
© John Le Gay Brereton
The patriot from his walls of brass
Is singing loudly as I pass;
With fearless heart and open eyes,
He shouts the ancient battle cries;
And, where I pause to hear him sing,
A silent crowd is listening.
A Father Out, An Mother Hwome
© William Barnes
The snow-white clouds did float on high
In shoals avore the sheenèn sky,
Lorelei
© Sylvia Plath
It is no night to drown in:
A full moon, river lapsing
Black beneath bland mirror-sheen,
The Men Of Old
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WELL speed thy mission, bold Iconoclast!
Yet all unworthy of its trust thou art,
If, with dry eye, and cold, unloving heart,
Thou tread'st the solemn Pantheon of the Past,
The Song Of Hiawatha IV: Hiawatha And Mudjekeewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Out of childhood into manhood
Now had grown my Hiawatha,
Spinning Songs
© Padraic Colum
But she said to him, "The goods you proffer
Are far from my mind as the silk of the sea!
The arms of him, my young love, round me,
Is all the treasure that's true for me!"
ER ZAGRIFIZZIO D'ABBRAMO I (Abraham's Sacrifice 1)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
La Bibbia, ch'è una spece d'un'istoria,
Dice che ttra la prima e ssiconn'arca
Abbramo vorze fà da bon patriarca
N'ojocaustico a Dio sur Montemoria.
The Antiquity Of Freedom
© William Cullen Bryant
Here are old trees, tall oaks and gnarled pines,
That stream with gray-green mosses; here the ground
Stratford-On-Avon
© Arthur Symons
Bright leaves and the pale grass turn grey
Now, sudden as a thought, one swan
Morton
© James Whitcomb Riley
The warm pulse of the nation has grown chill;
The muffled heart of Freedom, like a knell,
Throbs solemnly for one whose earthly will
Wrought every mission well.
On The Big Horn
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THE years are but half a score,
And the war-whoop sounds no more
With the blast of bugles, where
Straight into a slaughter pen,
Madeleine Vercheres
© William Henry Drummond
I've told you many a tale, my child, of the
old heroic days
Sleeping on a Night of Autumn Rain
© Bai Juyi
It's cold this night in autumn's third month,
Peacefully within, a lone old man.
