Peace poems
/ page 246 of 319 /The Dance To Death. Act I
© Emma Lazarus
This play is dedicated, in profound veneration and respect, to the
memory of George Eliot, the illustrious writer, who did most among
the artists of our day towards elevating and ennobling the spirit
of Jewish nationality.
Ode To Cheerfulness
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Guide me to thy fav'rite bow'rs,
To deck thy rural shrine with flow'rs.
In thy lowly, sylvan cell,
Peace and virtue love to dwell;
Ever let me own thy sway,
Still to thee my tribute pay.
In Praise of Mandragora
© Muriel Stuart
O, MANDRAGORA, many sing in praise
Of life, and death, and immortality,-
Of passion, that goes famished all her days,-
Of Faith, or fantasy;
Thou, all unpraised, unsung, I make this rhyme to thee.
A Mixed Battle Song
© Henry Lawson
Lo! the Boars tail is salted, and the Kangaroos exalted,
And his right eye is extinguished by a man-o-warsmans cap;
To William Wordsworth
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Friend of the Wise ! and Teacher of the Good !
Into my heart have I received that Lay
More than historic, that prophetic Lay
Wherein (high theme by thee first sung aright)
Beauty. Part II
© Henry James Pye
Of all that Nature's rural prospects yield,
The chrystal fountain and the flow'ry field,
The Captivity
© Oliver Goldsmith
FIRST PROPHET.
AIR.
Our God is all we boast below,
To him we turn our eyes;
And every added weight of woe
Shall make our homage rise.
How Rumplestilz Held Out In Vain For A Bonus
© Guy Wetmore Carryl
The Moral is: All said and done,
There's nothing new beneath the sun,
And many times before, a title
Was incapacity's requital!
Fears In Solitude
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
[Image][Image][Image][Image][Image] May my fears,
My filial fears, be vain ! and may the vaunts
And menace of the vengeful enemy
Pass like the gust, that roared and died away
In the distant tree : which heard, and only heard
In this low dell, bowed not the delicate grass.
To A Young Ass
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Its mother being tethered near itPoor little Foal of an oppress?d race!
I love the languid patience of thy face:
And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread,
And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head.
The Song Of Life
© George Essex Evans
Sing thou of Toil,
Of toil that moulds to-day the larger morrow!
Move with stout heart on Lifes great battle-field
And wear the motto Progress on thy shield.
All that is best is won through toil and sorrow.
Sing thou of Toil!
The Inward Morning
© Henry David Thoreau
What is it gilds the trees and clouds,
And paints the heavens so gay,
But yonder fast-abiding light
With its unchanging ray?
Banner Of Men Who Were Free
© Edgar Lee Masters
Flag of the great republic, banner of men who were free!
Carried aloft for freedom in many a bloody gorge;
Torn by the shot of tyrants in battle by land and sea,
The rallying hope of our fathers by Valley Forge.
Inspiration
© Henry David Thoreau
But if with bended neck I grope
Listening behind me for my wit,
With faith superior to hope,
More anxious to keep back than forward it;
Composed In Autumn
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WITH these dead leaves stripped from a withered tree,
And slowly fluttering round us, gentle friend,
Some faithless soul a sad presage might blend;
To me they bring a happier augury;
Pleasant Thought For The Morning
© Arthur Rimbaud
At four o'clock on a summer morning,
The Sleep of love still lasts.
Under the spinneys the dawn disperses scents
Of the festive night.
Cabbage Key
© Shawn McAllister
Once Hemingway
sat across this bay
and touched the endless sea
The gulf-stretched sun
Paradise Lost : Book V.
© John Milton
Now Morn, her rosy steps in the eastern clime
Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl,