Peace poems

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The Jewish Cemetery At Newport. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The very names recorded here are strange,
Of foreign accent, and of different climes;
Alvares and Rivera interchange
With Abraham and Jacob of old times.

The Charter;

© Helen Maria Williams

ADDRESSED
TO MY NEPHEW
ATHANASE C. L. COQUEREL,
ON HIS WEDDING DAY, 1819.

Asleep In The Valley

© Arthur Rimbaud

A small green valley where a slow stream flows
And leaves long strands of silver on the bright
Grass; from the mountaintop stream the Sun's
Rays; they fill the hollow full of light.

The Little Flock

© Katharine Tynan

CHRIST, now keep the little flock
Which Thou bad'st not to fear:
Childing women and old folk
And the little children dear.

'Tis Said, That Some Have Died For Love

© William Wordsworth

'Tis said, that some have died for love:

And here and there a churchyard grave is found

That sculptor we knew, the passionate-eyed son of a quarryman,
Who astonished Rome and Paris in his meteor youth, and then
was gone, at his high tide of triumphs,
Without reason or good-bye; I have seen him again lately, after
twenty years, but not in Europe.

The Wonder-Working Magician - Act II

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

CYPRIAN. Ever wrangling in this way,
How ye both my patience try!
Why can he not go? Say why?

The Castle Of Indolence

© James Thomson

The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.

Metamorphoses: Book The Eighth

© Ovid

The End of the Eighth Book.

Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands

Stain Not The Sky

© Henry Van Dyke

Ye gods of battle, lords of fear,

Who work your iron will as well

Laurance - [Part 2]

© Jean Ingelow

Then looking hard upon her, came to him
The power to feel and to perceive. Her teeth
Chattered, and all her limbs with shuddering failed,
And in her threadbare shawl was wrapped a child
That looked on him with wondering, wistful eyes.

Sappho II

© Sara Teasdale

Oh Litis, little slave, why will you sleep?
These long Egyptian noons bend down your head
Bowed like the yarrow with a yellow bee.
There, lift your eyes no man has ever kindled,

In Grandmamma's Kitchen

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

In grandmamma's kitchen, things got in a riot-
The cream in a pot on the shelf,
Where everything always seemed peaceful and quiet,
Got whipped, for I heard it myself.
And grandmamma said-such a queer thing to say,
That it made some things better to whip them that way.

Dedication - The Poems Of Goeth

By new-born flow'rs that full of dew-drops hung;
The youthful day awoke with ecstacy,
And all things quicken'd were, to quicken me.

Ye Wearie Wayfarer [A Dedication to the author of Holmby House"

Fytte I
By Wood and Wold
[A Preamble]

Gideon's Fleece

© John Newton

The signs which God to Gideon gave,
His holy Sovereignty made known;
That He alone has pow'r to save,
And claims the glory as his own.

I Did Not Know

I DID not know that I should miss you,
So silver-soft your loving came,
There were no trumpets down the dawning,
There were no leaping tides of flame . . .

To Sleep

My soul is sick with dreaming, let it rest.
False Sleep, thou hast conspired with Wakefulness,
I will not praise thee, I too long beguiled
With idle tales. Where is thy soothing breast ?
Thy peace, thy poppies, thy forgetfulness ?
Where is thy lap for me so tired a child ?