Peace poems

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The Triumph of Dead : Chap. 1

© Mary Sidney Herbert

That gallant lady, gloriously bright,

The stately pillar once of worthiness,

Mother And Son

© William Morris

Now sleeps the land of houses,

and dead night holds the street,

'Tis in the mind that Beauty stands confess'd,
In all the noblest pride of glory dress'd,
Where virtue's rules the conscious bosom arm,
There to our eyes she spreads her brightest charm:
There all her rays, with force collected, shine,
Proclaim her worth, and speak her race divine.

The Wish Of To-Day

© John Greenleaf Whittier

I ask not now for gold to gild
With mocking shine a weary frame;
The yearning of the mind is stilled,
I ask not now for Fame.

In The Harbour: The Poet's Calendar

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Janus am I; oldest of potentates;
Forward I look, and backward, and below
I count, as god of avenues and gates,
The years that through my portals come and go.

The Tryst

© Walter de la Mare

A music wistful for the sea-nymph's sake:
Haply Elijah, o'er his spokes of fire,
Cresting steep Leo, or the heavenly Lyre,
Spied, tranced in azure of inanest space,
Some eyrie hostel, meet for human grace,
Where two might happy be just you and I

A Flower Garden At Coleorton Hall, Leicestershire.

© William Wordsworth

TELL me, ye Zephyrs! that unfold,
While fluttering o'er this gay Recess,
Pinions that fanned the teeming mould
Of Eden's blissful wilderness,
Did only softly-stealing hours
There close the peaceful lives of flowers?

Barbara

© Alexander Smith

ON the Sabbath-day,

Through the churchyard old and gray,

A New Temperance Poem, in Memory of My Departed Parents

© William Topaz McGonagall

My parents were sober living, and often did pray
For their family to abstain from intoxicating drink alway;
Because they knew it would lead them astray
Which no God fearing man will dare to gainsay.

My God, I thank Thee who hast made

© Adelaide Anne Procter

My God, I thank Thee who hast made
The earth so bright;
So full of splendour and of joy,
Beauty and light;
So many glorious things are here,
Noble and right!

In The Twilight

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

NOT bed-time yet! The night-winds blow,

The stars are out,--full well we know

Aurora Leigh: Book Eighth

© Elizabeth Barrett Browning

In my ears
The sound of waters. There he stood, my king!

Ambition And Content: A Fable

© Mark Akenside

Thus spoke the fair; and straight she bent her way
To the tall mountain, where the cottage lay:
Arriv'd she makes her chang'd condition known;
Tells how the rebels drove her from the throne;
What painful, dreary wilds she'd wander'd o'er;
And shelter from the tyrant doth implore.

The Silver Stripes

When we've honored the heroes returning from France,

When we've mourned for the heroes who fell,

The Messiah : A Sacred Eclogue

Ye nymphs of Solyma! begin the song,
To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong.
The mossy fountains, and the sylvan shades,
The dreams of Pindus, and the Aonian maids,
Delight no more - O thou, my voice inspire,
Who touched Isaiah's hallowed lips with fire!

Home

"Oh! Mother the bells are ringing as never they rang before,
And banners aloft are flying, and open is every door,
While down in the streets are thousands of men I have never seen--
But friendly are all the faces--oh! Mother, what can it mean?"

The Cumberland

At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay,
On board of the Cumberland, sloop-of-war;
And at times from the fortress across the bay
The alarum of drums swept past,
Or a bugle blast
From the camp on the shore.

Sonnet For The End Of A Sequence

For now I am my own again, my friend!
This scar but points the whiteness of my breast;
This frenzy, like its betters, spins an end,
And now I am my own. And that is best.
Therefore, I am immeasurably grateful
To you, for proving shallow, false, and hateful.