Peace poems
/ page 28 of 319 /Rokeby: Canto III.
© Sir Walter Scott
CHORUS.
"O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair,
And Greta woods are green;
I'd rather rove with Edmund there,
Than reign our English queen."
The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The First =First Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
TANS. The enthusiasms most suitable to be first brought forward and
considered are those that I now place before you in the order that seems
to me most fitting.
The Eumenides
© Edith Wharton
Think you we slept within the Delphic bower,
What time our victim sought Apollos grace?
An Incindent At Pisa
© Richard Monckton Milnes
``From the common burial--ground
Mark'd by some peculiar bound,
Beppo! who are these that lie
Like one numerous family?''
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 9
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHILE these affairs in distant places passd,
The various Iris Juno sends with haste,
The Birth Of Flattery
© George Crabbe
Muse of my Spenser, who so well could sing
The passions all, their bearings and their ties;
An Indian Mother About to Destroy Her Child
© James Montgomery
Awhile she lay all passive to the touch
To The Australian Eleven
© Douglas Brooke Wheelton Sladen
You have bearded the lion in his den,
You have singed the original cricket
Upon his own hearth, and beaten his men
On a genuine English wicket;
And so the Australian kangaroo
Has a right good right to be proud of you.
A Letter From Peking
© Harriet Monroe
October I5th, 1910.
My friend, dear friend, why should I hear your voice
The Cycle
© Robinson Jeffers
The clapping blackness of the wings of pointed cormorants,
the great indolent planes
The Siege Of Corinth
© George Gordon Byron
XXVII.
Still the old man stood erect,
And Alp's career a moment check'd.
"Yield thee, Minotti; quarter take,
For thine own, thy daughter's sake."
Revisited
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The roll of drums and the bugle's wailing
Vex the air of our vales-no more;
The spear is beaten to hooks of pruning,
The share is the sword the soldier wore!
Alice And Una. A Tale Of Ceim-An-Eich
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
With a sigh for what is fading, but, O Earth! with no upbraiding,
For we feel that time is braiding newer, fresher flowers for thee,
We will speak, despite our grieving, words of loving and believing,
Tales we vowed when we were leaving awful Ceim-an-eich,
Where the sever'd rocks resemble fragments of a frozen sea,
And the wild deer flee!
Charity : A Paraphrase On 1 Cor. Chap. 13
© Matthew Prior
Did sweeter Sounds adorn my flowing Tongue,
Than ever Man pronounc'd, or Angel sung:
Beautiful River
© Robert Wadsworth Lowry
Shall we gather at the river
Where bright angel feet have trod;
With its crystal tide forever
Flowing by the throne of God?
The Lotus-Flower
© Roderic Quinn
All the heights of the high shores gleam
Red and gold at the sunset hour:
There comes the spell of a magic dream,
And the Harbour seems a lotus-flower;
Lebid
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Gone are they the lost camps, light flittings, long sojournings
in Miná, in Gháula, Rijám left how desolate.
Lost are they. Rayyán lies lorn with its white torrent beds,
scored in lines like writings left by the flood--water.
Peace
© Alfred Noyes
Give me the pulse of the tide again
And the slow lapse of the leaves,
The rustling gold of a field of grain
And a bird in the nested eaves;