Peace poems
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A Hidden Life
© George MacDonald
Ah God! when Beauty passes by the door,
Although she ne'er came in, the house grows bare.
Shut, shut the door; there's nothing in the house.
Why seems it always that it should be ours?
A secret lies behind which Thou dost know,
And I can partly guess.
On A Great Warrior
© Henry Abbey
When all the sky was wild and dark,
When every heart was wrung with fear,
Palestine
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Blest land of Judea! thrice hallowed of song,
Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-like throng;
In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea,
On the hills of thy beauty, my heart is with thee.
Euclid Alone
© Edna St. Vincent Millay
Euclid alone has looked on Beauty bare.
Let all who prate of Beauty hold their peace,
The Spagnoletto. Act V
© Emma Lazarus
DON TOMMASO.
If he still live, now shall we hear of him.
The news I learn will lure him from his covert,
Where'er it lie, to pardon or avenge.
The Four Seasons : Summer
© James Thomson
From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,
A Lay Of St. Nicholas
© Richard Harris Barham
Lord Abbot! Lord Abbot! I'd fain confess;
I am a-weary, and worn with woe;
Many a grief doth my heart oppress,
And haunt me whithersoever I go!'
Personal Talk
© William Wordsworth
I
I AM not One who much or oft delight
To season my fireside with personal talk.--
Of friends, who live within an easy walk,
The Glory That Slumbered In The Granite Rock
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
A granite rock on the mountain side
Gazed on the world and was satisfied;
Said the Kaiser to the Spy
© Henry Lawson
Now tell me what can England do?
Said the Kaiser to the Spy.
Love
© Nicholas Breton
Foolish love is only folly;
Wanton love is too unholy;
Greedy love is covetous;
Idle love is frivolous;
But the gracious love is it
That doth prove the work of it.
The Right to Die
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
I have no fancy for that ancient cant
That makes us masters of our destinies,
For The Dedication Of The New City Library, Boston
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
PROUDLY, beneath her glittering dome,
Our three-hilled city greets the morn;
Here Freedom found her virgin home,--
The Bethlehem where her babe was born.
The Troubadour. Canto 3
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
But sadness moved him when he gave
DE VALENCE to his lowly grave,--
The grave where the wild flowers were sleeping,
And one pale olive-tree was weeping,--
And placed the rude stone cross to show
A Christian hero lay below.
Thanksgiving
© William Stanley Braithwaite
MY heart gives thanks for many things;
For strength to labor day by day,
In The Wood Of Finvara
© Arthur Symons
I have grown tired of sorrow and human tears;
Life is a dream in the night, a fear among fears,
A naked runner lost in a storm of spears.
I have grown tired of rapture and love's desire;
Love is a flaming heart, and its flames aspire
Till they cloud the soul in the smoke of a windy fire.
Flora
© Charlotte Turner Smith
REMOTE from scenes, where the o'erwearied mind
Shrinks from the crimes and follies of mankind,
