Peace poems
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The Example of Vertu : Cantos VIII.-XIV.
© Stephen Hawes
Capitalum VIII.
Dame Sapyence taryed a lytell whyle
Behynd the other saynge to Dyscrecyon
And began on her to laugh and smyle
Prelude: The Troops
© Siegfried Sassoon
Dim, gradual thinning of the shapeless gloom
Shudders to drizzling daybreak that reveals
Composed At Clevedon, Somersetshire
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
My pensive Sara, thy soft cheek reclined
Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is
To sit beside our cot, our cot o'ergrown
With white-flowered jasmine and the broad-leaved myrtle
Ode To The Spirit Of The Earth In Autumn
© George Meredith
The crimson-footed nymph is panting up the glade,
With the wine-jar at her arm-pit, and the drunken ivy-braid
Round her forehead, breasts, and thighs: starts a Satyr, and they
speed:
Hear the crushing of the leaves: hear the cracking of the bough!
And the whistling of the bramble, the piping of the weed!
Upon the Kings happy return from Scotland
© Henry King
So breaks the day when the returning Sun
Hath newly through his Winter Tropick run,
As You (Great Sir!) in this regress come forth
From the remoter Climate of the North.
The Bartholdi Statue
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The land, that, from the rule of kings,
In freeing us, itself made free,
Our Old World Sister, to us brings
Her sculptured Dream of Liberty,
Bid McCrae
© Alice Guerin Crist
The church was wrapped in darkness save for the alter-light,
And save where near the marble rail six tapers glimmered bright
Oer waxen heavy-scented flowers and coffin plated deep,
Where the good wife, Mary Halloran lay in her last long sleep.
Perdita
© Jean Ingelow
I go beyond the commandment.'
So be it. Then mine be the blame,
The loss, the lack, the yearning, till life's last sand be run,-
I go beyond the commandment, yet honour stands fast with her claim,
And what I have rued I shall rue; for what I have done-I have done.
The Progress Of A Divine: Satire
© Richard Savage
All priests are not the same, be understood!
Priests are, like other folks, some bad, some good.
What's vice or virtue, sure admits no doubt;
Then, clergy, with church mission, or without;
When good, or bad, annex we to your name,
The greater honour, or the greater shame.
Zellen Woones Honey To Buy Zomehat Sweet
© William Barnes
Why, his heart's lik' a popple, so hard as a stwone,
Vor 'tis money, an' money's his ho,
The Cumberland
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay,
On board of the Cumberland sloop-of-war;
To the Troubler of the World
© William Watson
At last we know you, War-lord. You, that flung
The gauntlet down, fling down the mask you wore,
Publish your heart, and let its pent hate pour,
You that had God for ever on your tongue.
What Have We All Forgotten?
© Henry Lawson
WHAT have we all forgotten, at the break of the seventh year?
With a nation born to the ages and a Bad Time borne on its bier!
Public robbing, and lying that death cannot erase
Private strife and deceptionCover the bad dead face!
Drinking, gambling and madnessCover and bear it away
But what have we all forgotten at the dawn of the seventh day?
On The Day Of Gogol's Death
© Nikolay Alekseyevich Nekrasov
How blessed's the good-natured poet,
With little bile and much emotion:
All lovers of the gentle arts
Send him sincerest greetings;
Song: I Wish I Were Old Now
© Margaret Widdemer
I WISH I were old now,
And maybe content;
I'd look back the long way
My footsteps were bent,
And say, "'Tis all done now
What odds how it went?"
Home, Sweet Home
© John Howard Payne
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!
Bruce and the Abbot
© Sir Walter Scott
The Abbot on the threshold stood,
And in his hand the holy rood:
The Silent Victors
© James Whitcomb Riley
Dying for victory, cheer on cheer
Thundered on his eager ear.
--CHARLES L. HOLSTEIN.
