Peace poems
/ page 45 of 319 /
A Border Burn
© Alfred Austin
Where Autumn runnels fret and foam
Past banks of amber fern,
Since track was none I chanced to roam
Along a Border burn.
Letter
© Victor Marie Hugo
You can see it already: chalks and ochers;
Country crossed with a thousand furrow-lines;
The Rebel
© Henry Lawson
CALL ME traitor to my country and a rebel to my God.
And the foe of law and order, well deserving of the rod,
But I scorn the biassed sentence from the temples of the creed
That was fouled and mutilated by the ministers of greed,
For the strength that I inherit is the strength of Truth and Right;
Lords of earth! I am immortal in the battles cf the night!
Twilight And Peace
© Roderic Quinn
O GREY and dewy Twilight,
Thou, who comest softly, bringing
Silence sweeter than all music,
Song of bird or mortal singing;
The Prioresss Tale [from Chaucer]
© William Wordsworth
"Call up him who left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold."
I
Book Tenth {Residence in France continued]
© William Wordsworth
IT was a beautiful and silent day
That overspread the countenance of earth,
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - September
© George MacDonald
1.
WE are a shadow and a shining, we!
Little Henry
© Julia A Moore
God has took their little treasure,
And his name I'll tell you now,
He has gone from earth forever,
Their little Charles Henry House.
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
© John Masefield
Down in the village men awoke,
The chimneys breathed with a faint blue smoke;
The fox slept on, though tweaks and twitches,
Due to his dreams, ran down his flitches.
Questionings
© Peter McArthur
LAUGHTER and Silence for a sword and shield!
O aching heart, what war is this you wage ?
The Borough. Letter XVII: The Hospital And
© George Crabbe
Govenors
AN ardent spirit dwells with Christian love,
Parisina
© George Gordon Byron
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
The Silver Box
© Alice Guerin Crist
Old tales of valour fire our blood
But this, the bravest deed I know
Is written of our modern times,
No myth of long ago.
Ode
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Delivered on the first anniversary of the Carolina Art Association, Feb. 10, 1856.
THERE are two worlds wherein our souls may dwell,
With discord, or ethereal music fraught,
One the loud mart wherein men buy and sell
Idylls of the King: The Passing of Arthur (excerpt)
© Alfred Tennyson
Then spake King Arthur to Sir Bedivere,
And whiter than the mist that all day long
Had held the field of battle was the King:
The Hive At Gettysburg
© John Greenleaf Whittier
IN the old Hebrew myth the lion's frame,
So terrible alive,
Bleached by the desert's sun and wind, became
The wandering wild bees' hive;
The Dean Of Santiago
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The Dean of Santiago on his mule
Rode quick the Guadalquivir banks along,
