Peace poems
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The Slumber Angel
© Virna Sheard
When day is ended, and grey twilight flies
On silent wings across the tired land,
The slumber angel cometh from the skies-
The slumber angel of the peaceful eyes,
And with the scarlet poppies in his hand.
The Wisdom Of Merlyn
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
These are the time--words of Merlyn, the voice of his age recorded,
All his wisdom of life, the fruit of tears in his youth, of joy in his manhood hoarded,
All the wit of his years unsealed, to the witless alms awarded.
Friar Pedro's Ride
© Francis Bret Harte
It was the morning season of the year;
It was the morning era of the land;
To Thyrza
© George Gordon Byron
Without a stone to mark the spot,
And say, what Truth might well have said,
By all, save one, perchance forgot,
Ah! wherefore art thou lowly laid?
Rocked In The Cradle Of The Deep
© Emma Hart Willard
Rocked in the cradle of the deep
I lay me down in peace to sleep;
The King Of Denmark's Sons
© William Morris
In Denmark gone is many a year,
So fair upriseth the rim of the sun,
Two sons of Gorm the King there were,
So grey is the sea when day is done.
Lines On Hearing That Lady Byron Was Ill
© George Gordon Byron
And thou wert sad - yet I was not with thee;
And thou wert sick, and yet I was not near;
Methought that joy and health alone could be
Where I was not - and pain and sorrow here!
A Womans Sonnets: X
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love, ere I go, forgive me each least wrong,
Each trouble I unwittingly have wrought.
My heart, my life, my tears to thee belong;
Yet have I erred, maybe, through too fond thought.
Address To Certain Golfishes
© Hartley Coleridge
RESTLESS forms of living light
Quivering on your lucid wings,
The Columbiad: Book III
© Joel Barlow
His eldest hope, young Rocha, at his call,
Resigns his charge within the temple wall;
In whom began, with reverend forms of awe,
The functions grave of priesthood and of law,
John Burns Of Gettysburg
© Francis Bret Harte
So raged the battle. You know the rest:
How the rebels, beaten and backward pressed,
Broke at the final charge, and ran.
At which John Burnsa practical man
Shouldered his rifle, unbent his brows,
And then went back to his bees and cows.
Oben Vields
© William Barnes
Well, you mid keep the town an' street,
Wi' grassless stwones to beät your veet,
Threnodia Augustalis: Overture - A Solemn Dirge
© Oliver Goldsmith
ARISE, ye sons of worth, arise,
And waken every note of woe;
When truth and virtue reach the skies,
'Tis ours to weep the want below!
Elegy
© James Beattie
Tired with the busy crowds, that all the day
Impatient throng where Folly's altars flame,
My languid powers dissolve with quick decay,
Till genial Sleep repair the sinking frame.
The Rapid
© Charles Sangster
Fast downward they're dashing,
Each fearless eye flashing,
Though danger awaits them on every side.
Yon rocksee it frowning!
They strikethey are drowning!
The Fire-side
© Nathaniel Cotton
Dear Chloe, while the busy crowd,
The vain, the wealthy, and the proud,
In folly's maze advance;
Tho' singularity and pride
Be call'd our choice, we'll step aside,
Nor join the giddy dance.
The Snowdrop In The Snow
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
O full of Faith! The Earth is rock,-the Heaven
The dome of a great palace all of ice,
