Peace poems

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Portent

© Robert William Service

Courage mes gars:
La guerre est proche.I plant my little plot of beans,
I sit beneath my cyprus tree;
I do not know what trouble means,

The Home-Coming

© Robert William Service

My boy's come back; he's here at last;
He came home on a special train.
My longing and my ache are past,
My only son is back again.

A child saw in the morning skies
The dissipated-looking moon,
And opened wide her big blue eyes,
And cried: "Look, look, my lost balloon!"
And clapped her rosy hands with glee:
"Quick, mother! Bring it back to me."

The Joy Of Little Things

© Robert William Service

It's good the great green earth to roam,
Where sights of awe the soul inspire;
But oh, it's best, the coming home,
The crackle of one's own hearth-fire!

My Garden

© Robert William Service

The world is sadly sick, they say,
And plagued by woe and pain.
But look! How looms my garden gay,
With blooms in golden reign!

Little Brother

© Robert William Service

Wars have been and wars will be
Till the human race is run;
Battles red by land and sea,
Never peace beneath the sun.

Wrestling Match

© Robert William Service

What guts he had, the Dago lad
Who fought that Frenchman grim with guile;
For nigh an hour they milled like mad,
And mauled the mat in rare old style.

The Gardener LXXV: At Midnight

© Rabindranath Tagore

At midnight the would-be ascetic
announced:
"This is the time to give up my
home and seek for God. Ah, who has

The Gardener LXI: Peace, My Heart

© Rabindranath Tagore

Peace, my heart, let the time for
the parting be sweet.
Let it not be a death but completeness.
Let love melt into memory and pain

The Child-Angel

© Rabindranath Tagore

They clamour and fight, they doubt and despair, they know no end
to their wrangling.
Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my
child, unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.

Only Thee

© Rabindranath Tagore

That I want thee, only thee---let my heart repeat without end.
All desires that distract me, day and night,
are false and empty to the core.

Lover's Gifts LVIII: Things Throng and Laugh

© Rabindranath Tagore

Things throng and laugh loud in the sky; the sands and dust dance
and whirl like children. Man's mind is aroused by their shouts; his
thoughts long to be the playmates of things.
Our dreams, drifting in the stream of the vague, stretch their

Benediction

© Rabindranath Tagore

Bless this little heart, this white soul that has won the kiss of
heaven for our earth.
He loves the light of the sun, he loves the sight of his
mother's face.

Beggarly Heart

When the heart is hard and parched up,
come upon me with a shower of mercy. When grace is lost from life,
come with a burst of song. When tumultuous work raises its din on all sides shutting me out from
beyond, come to me, my lord of silence, with thy peace and rest. When my beggarly heart sits crouched, shut up in a corner,

Understand Old One

What if you came back now
To our new world, the city roaring
There on the old peaceful camping place
Of your red fires along the quiet water,

Mother's Day Proclamation

Arise then...women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:

To the United States of America

Sure is our hope since he who led your nation
Spake for mankind, and ye arose in awe
Of that high call to work the world's salvation;
Clearing your minds of all estrangling blindness
In the vision of Beauty and the Spirit's law,
Freedom and Honour and sweet Lovingkindness.

The Growth of Love

So in despite of sorrow lately learn'd
I still hold true to truth since thou art true,
Nor wail the woe which thou to joy hast turn'd
Nor come the heavenly sun and bathing blue
To my life's need more splendid and unearn'd
Than hath thy gift outmatch'd desire and due.