Peace poems

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The Inward Warfare

© John Newton

Strange and mysterious is my life,
What opposites I feel within!
A stable peace, a constant strife,
The rule of grace, the pow'r of sin:
Too often I am captive led,
Yet daily triumph in my Head.

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A Short Discourse on Eternity

© Michael Wigglesworth

Isa. 57:15
Mark. 3:29
Matt. 25:46

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Youth In Memory

© George Meredith

Days, when the ball of our vision

Had eagles that flew unabashed to sun;

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Sumner

© John Greenleaf Whittier

O Mother State! the winds of March
Blew chill o'er Auburn's Field of God,
Where, slow, beneath a leaden arch
Of sky, thy mourning children trod.

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The Bonny Brown Hand

© Paul Hamilton Hayne

OH, drearily, how drearily, the sombre eve comes down!
And wearily, how wearily, the seaward breezes blow!
But place your little hand in mine--so dainty, yet so brown!
For household toil hath worn away its rosy-tinted snow:

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Long, Too Long America

© Walt Whitman

Long, too long America,
Traveling roads all even and peaceful you learn'd from joys and prosperity only,
But now, ah now, to learn from crises of anguish, advancing, grappling with direst fate and recoiling not,
And now to conceive and show to the world what your children en-masse really are,
(For who except myself has yet conceiv'd what your children en-masse really are?)

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The Ring And The Book - Chapter VI - Giuseppe Caponsacchi

© Robert Browning

Again the morning found me. “I will work,
“Tie down my foolish thoughts. Thank God so far!
“I have saved her from a scandal, stopped the tongues
“Had broken else into a cackle and hiss
“Around the noble name. Duty is still
“Wisdom: I have been wise.” So the day wore.

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Australia Vindex

© Henry Kendall

She is fairer than flowers of love;
 She is fiercer than wind-driven flame;
And God from His thunders above
 Hath smitten the soul of her shame.

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Battle-Flags Of Illinois

© Harriet Monroe

Through the red dusk of war they flew
From Shiloh to the sea.
Black fumes from shattered bolts that blew
Withered the colors three,
And crimson rains made sombre stains.

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The Fountain Of Youth

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

READ AT THE MEETING OF THE HARVARD ALUMNI

ASSOCIATION, JUNE 25, 1873

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Italy : 51. Marco Griffoni

© Samuel Rogers

War is a game at which all are sure to lose, sooner or
later, play they how they will; yet every nation has
delighted in war, and none more in their day than the
little republic of Genoa, whose galleys, while she had

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The Man of Sentiment

© Kenneth Slessor

Part One
[A walled garden of York. It is an August Sunday, and the baying of deep church-bells is blown faintly in a warm wind. Laurence Sterne, prebendary, aged forty-six, and Catherine de Fromantel, a girl who sings at Ranelagh, are dawdling through the arbours, and pause at a path which runs between hedges and cypress-trees round a corner some fifty yards away. Catherine has walked down such a path before, it is to be feared, and halts cautiously upon its fringes.]
Laurence:
Nay, 'tis no Devil's walk,

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Angkor

© Robert Laurence Binyon

I
Out of the Forest into a terrible splendour
Of noon, the pinnacles of the temple--portals,
Stone Faces, immense in carven ruin
Above the trembling of giant trees emerge.

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Peter Bell The Third

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

Is it a party in a parlour,
Crammed just as they on earth were crammed,
Some sipping punch-some sipping tea;
But, as you by their faces see,
All silent, and all-damned!
Peter Bell, by W. Wordsworth.

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O, Time And Change, They Range And Range

© William Ernest Henley

O, Time and Change, they range and range

From sunshine round to thunder! -

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"I dream of hunchbacked Tiflis"

© Osip Emilevich Mandelstam

I dream of hunchbacked Tiflis,
Where a Sazandar's groan resounds
The people cluster on the bridge,
The crowd carpets the whole capital,
While below, the Kuramurmurs.

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The Struggle

© Edgar Albert Guest

Life is a struggle for peace,

  A longing for rest,

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Marmion: Canto III. - The Inn

© Sir Walter Scott

I.

The livelong day Lord Marmion rode:

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Sangar

© John Reed

Oh, there was joy in Heaven when Sangar came.
Sweet Mary wept, and bathed and bound his wounds,
And God the Father healed him of despair,
And Jesus gripped his hand, and laughed and laughed….

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The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Fifth

© William Wordsworth

HIGH on a point of rugged ground
Among the wastes of Rylstone Fell
Above the loftiest ridge or mound
Where foresters or shepherds dwell,