Peace poems
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Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking
© Walt Whitman
Shine! shine! shine!
Pour down your warmth, great sun!
While we bask, we two together.
The Hard Times In Elfland [A Story of Christmas Eve]
© Sidney Lanier
Strange that the termagant winds should scold
The Christmas Eve so bitterly!
But Wife, and Harry the four-year-old,
Big Charley, Nimblewits, and I,
The Masque of Queen Bersabe: A Miracle-Play
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
PRIMUS MILES.
Sir, note this that I will say;
That Lord who maketh corn with hay
And morrows each of yesterday,
He hath you in his hand.
The Third Monarchy, being the Grecian, beginning under Alexander the Great in the 112. Olympiad.
© Anne Bradstreet
Great Alexander was wise Philips son,
He to Amyntas, Kings of Macedon;
The Church Militant
© George Herbert
Almightie Lord, who from thy glorious throne
Seest and rulest all things ev'n as one:
Aspects Of The Pines
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Tall, somber, grim, against the morning sky
They rise, scarce touched by melancholy airs,
Which stir the fadeless foliage dreamfully,
As if from realms of mystical despairs.
The Sun Wields Mercy
© Charles Bukowski
and the sun wields mercy
but like a jet torch carried to high,
Vision of Columbus Book 3
© Joel Barlow
Now, twice twelve years, the children of the skies
Beheld in peace their growing empire rise;
At The Cenotaph
© Siegfried Sassoon
I saw the Prince of Darkness, with his Staff,
Standing bare-headed by the Cenotaph:
Botany Bay Eclogues 04 - John, Samuel & Richard
© Robert Southey
'Tis a calm pleasant evening, the light fades away,
And the Sun going down has done watch for the day.
To my mind we live wonderous well when transported,
It is but to work and we must be supported.
Fill the cann, Dick! success here to Botany Bay!
Hymn To The Naiads
© Mark Akenside
ARGUMENT. The Nymphs, who preside over springs and rivulets, are addressed at day-break, in honor of their several functions, and of the relations which they bear to the natural and to the moral world. Their origin is deduced from the first allegorical deities, or powers of nature; according to the doctrine of the old mythological poets, concerning the generation of the gods and the rise of things. They are then successively considered, as giving motion to the air and exciting summer-breezes; as nourishing and beautifying the vegetable creation; as contributing to the fullness of navigable rivers, and consequently to the maintenance of commerce; and by that means, to the maritime part of military power. Next is represented their favourable influence upon health, when assisted by rural exercise: which introduces their connection with the art of physic, and the happy effects of mineral medicinal springs. Lastly, they are celebrated for the friendship which the Muses bear them, and for the true inspiration which temperance only can receive: in opposition to the enthusiasm of the more licentious poets.
--
The World In The House
© Jane Taylor
Regions of intellect ! serenely fair,
Hence let us rise, and breathe your purer air.
--There shine the stars ! one intellectual glance
At that bright host,--on yon sublime expanse,
Might prove a cure ;--well, say they, let them shine
With all our hearts,--but let us dress and dine.
The Martyr Poetsdid not tell
© Emily Dickinson
The Martyr Poetsdid not tell
But wrought their Pang in syllable
That when their mortal name be numb
Their mortal fateencourage Some
The Hero
© John Greenleaf Whittier
"O for a knight like Bayard,
Without reproach or fear;
My light glove on his casque of steel,
My love-knot on his spear!
On the Paroo
© Henry Kendall
AS WHEN the strong stream of a wintering sea
Rolls round our coast, with bodeful breaks of storm,
Battle Of Hastings - I
© Thomas Chatterton
From Chatelet hys launce Erle Egward drew,
And hit Wallerie on the dexter cheek;
Peerc'd to his braine, and cut his tongue in two.
There, knyght, quod he, let that thy actions speak --
Sydney Exhibition Cantata
© Henry Kendall
A gracious morning on the hills of wet
And wind and mist her glittering feet has set;
The life and heat of light have chased away
Australia's dark, mysterious yesterday.
A great, glad glory now flows down and shines
On gold-green lands where waved funereal pines.
The Princess (part 7)
© Alfred Tennyson
'If you be, what I think you, some sweet dream,
I would but ask you to fulfil yourself:
But if you be that Ida whom I knew,
I ask you nothing: only, if a dream,
Sweet dream, be perfect. I shall die tonight.
Stoop down and seem to kiss me ere I die.'
