Peace poems
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Velvet Shoes
© Elinor Wylie
Let us walk in the white snow
In a soundless space;
With footsteps quiet snd slow,
At a tranquil pace,
Under veils of white lace.
Bells in the Rain
© Elinor Wylie
Sleep falls, with limpid drops of rain,
Upon the steep cliffs of the town.
Sleep falls; men are at peace again
While the small drops fall softly down.
Verses on the Death of Doctor Swift
© Jonathan Swift
As Rochefoucauld his maxims drew
From nature, I believe 'em true:
They argue no corrupted mind
In him; the fault is in mankind.
A Lament
© William Henry Drummond
My thoughts hold mortal strife;
I do detest my life,
And with lamenting cries
Peace to my soul to bring
Marriage
© Marianne Clarke Moore
This institution,
perhaps one should say enterprise
out of respect for which
one says one need not change one's mind
The Height of Land
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Here is the height of land:
The watershed on either hand
Goes down to Hudson Bay
Or Lake Superior;
From Shadow
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Now the November skies,
And the clouds that are thin and gray,
That drop with the wind away;
A flood of sunlight rolls,
The Chinese Nightingale
© Vachel Lindsay
"I remember, I remember
That Spring came on forever,
That Spring came on forever,"
Said the Chinese nightingale.
Farewell
© Katharine Tynan
Not soon shall I forget--a sheet
Of golden water, cold and sweet,
The young moon with her head in veils
Of silver, and the nightingales.
The Whispers Of Time
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
What does time whisper, youth gay and light,
While thinning thy locks, silken and bright,
While paling thy soft cheeks roseate dye,
Dimming the light of thy flashing eye,
Stealing thy bloom and freshness away
Is he not hinting at deathdecay?
Gnomic Verses
© Robert Creeley
Down the road Up the hill Into the house
Over the wall Under the bed After the fact
By the way Out of the woods Behind the times
In front of the door Between the lines Along the path
The Sprig of Moss
© William Topaz McGonagall
There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth,
But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth,
And of seven of a family he was the elder,
Who was named, by his parents, Alois Senefelder.
The Voyage Of Columbus
© Samuel Rogers
Unclasp me, Stranger; and unfold,
With trembling care my leaves of gold,
Rich in gothic portraiture--
If yet, alas, a leaf endure.
A Poet's Home
© Charles Harpur
HERE in this lonely rill-engirdled spot,
The world forgetting, by the world forgot,
With one vowed to me with beloved lips
How sweet to draw, as hiddenly from time,
As from its rocks yon shaded fountain slips,
My yet remaining prime.
The Late Sir John Ogilvy
© William Topaz McGonagall
Alas! Sir John Ogilvy is dead, aged eighty-seven,
But I hope his soul is now in heaven;
For he was a generous-hearted gentleman I am sure,
And, in particular, very kind unto the poor.
The Funeral of the Late Prince Henry of Battenberg
© William Topaz McGonagall
Alas! Prince Henry of Battenberg is dead!
And, I hope, has gone to heaven, its streets to tread,
And to sing with God's saints above,
Where all is joy and peace and love.
The Funeral of the German Emperor
© William Topaz McGonagall
Ye sons of Germany, your noble Emperor William now is dead.
Who oft great armies to battle hath led;
He was a man beloved by his subjects all,
Because he never tried them to enthral.
