Peace poems
/ page 210 of 319 /
The Pastime of Pleasure : The First Part.
© Stephen Hawes
Here begynneth the passe tyme of pleasure.
Ryyght myghty prynce / & redoubted souerayne
Saylynge forthe well / in the shyppe of grace
Ouer the wawes / of this lyfe vncertayne
In Memory: James T. Fields
© John Greenleaf Whittier
As a guest who may not stay
Long and sad farewells to say
Glides with smiling face away,
Old Santeclaus
© Clement Clarke Moore
Old SANTECLAUS with much delight
His reindeer drives this frosty night,
Oer chimney-tops, and tracks of snow,
To bring his yearly gifts to you.
Sonnet V. To the River Tweed.
© William Lisle Bowles
O TWEED! a stranger, that with wand'ring feet
O'er hill and dale has journey'd many a mile,
On the Death of a Young Gentleman
© Phillis Wheatley
And thy full joys into their bosoms pour;
The raging tempest of their grief control,
And spread the dawn of glory through the soul,
To eye the path the saint departed trod,
And trace him to the bosom of his God.
The Way Of The World
© George Frederick Cameron
WE sneer and we laugh with the lipthe most of us do it,
Whenever a brother goes down like a weed with the tide;
We point with the finger and sayOh, we knew it! we knew it!
But, see! we are better than he was, and we will abide.
The Prisoner
© Emily Jane Brontë
STILL let my tyrants know, I am not doom'd to wear
Year after year in gloom and desolate despair;
A messenger of Hope comes every night to me,
And offers for short life, eternal liberty.
Yet Dish
© Gertrude Stein
I
Put a sun in Sunday, Sunday.
Eleven please ten hoop. Hoop.
Cousin coarse in coarse in soap.
Cousin coarse in soap sew up. soap.
Cousin coarse in sew up soap.
Gotham - Book III
© Charles Churchill
Can the fond mother from herself depart?
Can she forget the darling of her heart,
The Lily And The Rose
© William Cowper
The nymph must lose her female friend
If more admired than she, -
But where will fierce contention end
If flowers can disagree?
Poets At Seven Years
© Arthur Rimbaud
And the mother, closing the work-book
Went off, proud, satisfied, not seeing,
In the blue eyes, under the lumpy brow,
The soul of her child given over to loathing.
Amours De Voyage, Canto I
© Arthur Hugh Clough
I am to tell you, you say, what I think of our last new acquaintance.
Well, then, I think that George has a very fair right to be jealous.
I do not like him much, though I do not dislike being with him.
He is what people call, I suppose, a superior man, and
Certainly seems so to me; but I think he is terribly selfish.
Dining-Room Tea
© Rupert Brooke
When you were there, and you, and you,
Happiness crowned the night; I too,
Voyage of the Jettie
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A shallow stream, from fountains
Deep in the Sandwich mountains,
Ran lake ward Bearcamp River;
And, between its flood-torn shores,
Sped by sail or urged by oars
No keel had vexed it ever.
Custer: Book Third
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Were every red man slaughtered in a day,
Still would that sacrifice but poorly pay
For one insulted woman captive's woes.
Faint Fall the Gentle Voice of Prayer
© Henry Timrod
Faint falls the gentle voice of prayer,
In the wild sounds that fill the air,
Yet, Lord, we know that voice is heard,
Not less than if Thy throne it stirred.
The Gatekeeper
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE sunlight falls on old Quebec,
A city framed of rose and gold,
Requiem
© Edith Nesbit
NOW veiled in the inviolable past
Love lies asleep, who never more will wake;
Nor would you wake him, even for my sake
Who for your sake pray he sleep sound at last.
