Peace poems

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The Disappointment

© Ann Taylor

IN tears to her mother poor Harriet came,
Let us listen to hear what she says:
"O see, dear mamma, it is pouring with rain,
We cannot go out in the chaise.

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Occasion'd By Seeing Some Verses Written By Mrs. Constantia Grierson, Upon The Death Of Her Son.

© Mary Barber

Soften, kind Heav'n, her seeming rigid Fate,
With frequent Visions of his blissful State:
Oft let the Guardian Angel of her Son
Tell her in faithful Dreams, His Task is done;
Shew, how he kindly led her lovely Boy
To Realms of Peace, and never--fading Joy.

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Open, Time

© Louise Imogen Guiney

Open, Time, and let him pass
Shortly where his feet would be!
Like a leaf at Michaelmas
Swooning from the tree,

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Sonnet 107: "Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul..."

© William Shakespeare

Not mine own fears, nor the prophetic soul

Of the wide world dreaming on things to come,

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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 5.

© William Cowper

Adam.  Restrain, restrain thy step
Whoe'er thou art, nor with thy songs inveigle
Him, who has only cause for ceaseless tears.

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Choriambics -- II

© Rupert Brooke

Here the flame that was ash, shrine that was void,

 lost in the haunted wood,

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Jack Of The Tules

© Francis Bret Harte

Shrewdly you question, Senor, and I fancy
You are no novice.  Confess that to little
Of my poor gossip of Mission and Pueblo
  You are a stranger!

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Queen Mab: Part V.

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

'Thus do the generations of the earth

  Go to the grave and issue from the womb,

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Among the Hills

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Through Sandwich notch the west-wind sang
 Good morrow to the cotter;
And once again Chocorua’s horn
 Of shadow pierced the water.

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Dawn

© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall

O KEEP the world forever at the dawn,

Ere yet the opals, cobweb-strung, have dried,

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The Minstrel

© Arthur Henry Adams

An Incident in One Act.
PERSONS. THE KING, THE QUEEN, EARL ATHULF, THE MINSTREL.
Heralds, Pages, Men-at-Arms, Sentries. TIME: THE PAST.
SCENE:

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The Farmer's Boy - Summer

© Robert Bloomfield

Here, midst the boldest triumphs of her worth,
NATURE herself invites the REAPERS forth;
Dares the keen sickle from its twelvemonth's rest,
And gives that ardour which in every breast
From infancy to age alike appears,
When the first sheaf its plumy top uprears.

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Song Of America

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

And now, when poets are singing
Their songs of olden days,
And now, when the land is ringing
With sweet Centennial lays,

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False

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

False! Good God, I am dreaming!

No, no, it never can be-

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Translation Of Part Of The First Book Of The Aeneid

© William Wordsworth

THE EDITORS OF THE PHILOLOGICAL MUSEUM

BUT Cytherea, studious to invent

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Marmion: Introduction to Canto IV.

© Sir Walter Scott

An ancient minstrel sagely said,

"Where is the life which late we led?"

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You are disappointed? You thought...

© Boris Pasternak

You are disappointed? You thought that in peace we
Would part to the sound of a requiem, a swan-song?
You counted on grief, with your pupils dilated,
Their invincibility trying in tears on?

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Edwin and Eltruda, a Legendary Tale

© Helen Maria Williams

Where the pure Derwent's waters glide
  Along their mossy bed,
Close by the river's verdant side,
  A castle rear'd its head.

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The Cemetary Of Eylau

© Victor Marie Hugo

This to my elder brothers, schoolboys gay,

Was told by Uncle Louis on a day;

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The Chapel of the Hermits

© John Greenleaf Whittier

"I do believe, and yet, in grief,
I pray for help to unbelief;
For needful strength aside to lay
The daily cumberings of my way.