Peace poems
/ page 257 of 319 /
1915
© Robert Graves
Ive watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,
In the fields between La Bass?e and Bethune;
Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,
Red poppy floods of June,
Antonio Melidori
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
SCENE I.
[A place not far from the summit of Mount Psiloriti, in the Isle of Candia. Philota discovered with a basket of grapes upon her head; she looks eagerly upward. Time, a little before sunset.]
PHILOTA.
Wild Strawberries
© Robert Graves
Strawberries that in gardens grow
Are plump and juicy fine,
But sweeter far as wise men know
Spring from the woodland vine.
The Speeches of Sloth and Virtue
© William Shenstone
[Upon the Plan of Xenophen's Judgment of Hercules]
SLOTH
Aurora Leigh: Book One
© Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I, alas,
A wild bird scarcely fledged, was brought to her cage,
And she was there to meet me. Very kind.
Bring the clean water, give out the fresh seed.
Flight Of Swans
© Robinson Jeffers
One who sees giant Orion, the torches of winter midnight,
Enormously walking above the ocean in the west of heaven;
Dwelling In Mesech
© John Newton
What a mournful life is mine,
Fill with crosses, pains and cares!
Every work defiled with sin,
Every step beset with snares!
The Retrospect: CWM Elan, 1812
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
Woods, to whose depths retires to die
The wounded Echo's melody,
And whither this lone spirit bent
The footstep of a wild intent:
At Shelleys House At Lerici
© Alfred Austin
Maiden, with English hair, and eyes
The colour of Italian skies,
What seek you by this shore?
``I seek, sir, for the latest home
Where Shelley dwelt, and, o'er the foam
Speeding, returned no more.''
Poem (Halleck monument dedication)
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SAY not the Poet dies!
Though in the dust he lies,
He cannot forfeit his melodious breath,
Unsphered by envious death!
Martha
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SEXTON! Martha's dead and gone;
Toll the bell! toll the bell!
Her weary hands their labor cease;
Good night, poor Martha,-- sleep in peace!
Toll the bell!
The Iron Gate
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHERE is this patriarch you are kindly greeting?
Not unfamiliar to my ear his name,
Nor yet unknown to many a joyous meeting
In days long vanished,-- is he still the same,
Brother Jonathan's Lament
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SHE has gone,-- she has left us in passion and pride,--
Our stormy-browed sister, so long at our side!
She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow,
And turned on her brother the face of a foe!
Under the Violets
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
HER hands are cold; her face is white;
No more her pulses come and go;
Her eyes are shut to life and light;--
Fold the white vesture, snow on snow,
And lay her where the violets blow.
The Two Streams
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
So from the heights of Will
Life's parting stream descends,
And, as a moment turns its slender rill,
Each widening torrent bends, --
AN ELEGY Upon the most Incomparable K. Charles the First
© Henry King
Call for amazed thoughts, a wounded sense
And bleeding Hearts at our Intelligence.
Call for that Trump of Death the Mandrakes Groan
Which kills the Hearers: This befits alone
The Missionary - Canto Eighth
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh, shout for Lautaro, the young and the brave!
The arm of whose strength was uplifted to save,
When the steeds of the strangers came rushing amain,
And the ghosts of our fathers looked down on the slain!
Ghost Glen
© Henry Kendall
"Shut your ears, stranger, or turn from Ghost Glen now,
For the paths are grown over, untrodden by men now;
Shut your ears, stranger," saith the grey mother, crooning
Her sorcery runic, when sets the half-moon in.
A Destiny
© Caroline Norton
And his two sons in careless beauty grew,
Like wild-flowers in his path: he mark'd them not,
Nor reck'd he what they needed, learnt, or knew,
Or what might be on earth their future lot;
But they died young--which is a thought of rest!
Unscorn'd, untempted, undefiled--so best.
