Peace poems

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Salve Deus Rex Iudæorum

© Lanyer Æmilia

Now Pontius Pilate is to judge the CauseOf faultlesse Jesus, who before him stands;Who neither hath offended Prince, nor Lawes,Although he now be brought in woefull bands:O noble Governour, make thou yet a pause,Doe not in innocent blood imbrue thy hands; But heare the words of thy most worthy wife, Who sends to thee, to beg her Sauiours life

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Haenyo Song: Harvest

© L'Abbé Sonnet

We cull the island's most spectacular fields.

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The Incarnation

© Knox Isa Craig

Not in cloud and not in thunder,Filling all the world with wonder, Came to earth the Lord of earth;But with helpless cries and tears,Mid a mother's pains and fears, Entered by the gate of birth.

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The Vanity of Human Wishes

© Samuel Johnson

Let observation with extensive view,

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London: A Poem, in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal

© Samuel Johnson

Though grief and fondness in my breast rebel,

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Flint and Feather

© Emily Pauline Johnson

Ojistoh1.2Of him whose name breathes bravery and life1.3And courage to the tribe that calls him chief.1.4I am Ojistoh, his white star, and he1.5Is land, and lake, and sky--and soul to me.

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The Wayfarer

© Hyde Robin

The wounds of the world are good wounds, got in a hardy fight --Therefore 'tis best to welcome or pilgrim or knightWho limping comes on his quest, forspent or betrayed,Whose breast is an aching thrust; and who will not be stayed

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The Last Gift

© Hyde Robin

I have taken so much of your beauty, oh deep kind Earth,Face on your soft old face, heart on your warm heart lying --Scent of rain in leaves and the small stream's bubble of mirth,Hush of the sad-eyed pool that is dark with night-birds' crying,

Stars drowned deep in the lake, sunset's flame in a pine,Secret clutching fingers of baby ferns, close-curled --These are a stain of scent from a cool old perfumed wineThat sleeps in a carven chalice blue-glazed in the dawn of the world

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Half Moon

© Hyde Robin

The little pools of starlight splashAgainst the poplars' slender lines;The moon is like a golden comb,Caught in the tresses of the pines.

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The Sparrow's Nest

© Howitt Mary

Nay, only look what I have found!A Sparrow's nest upon the ground;A Sparrow's nest as you may see,Blown out of yonder old elm tree.

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A Mid-summer Noon in the Australian Forest

© Charles Harpur

Not a bird disturbs the air,There is quiet everywhere;Over plains and over woods.What a mighty stillness broods.

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The Song of an Exile

© William Hamilton

I have seen the Cliffs of Dover And the White Horse on the Hill; I have walked the lanes, a rover; I have dreamed beside the rill: I have known the fields awaking To the gentle touch of Spring; The joy of morning breaking, And the peace your twilights bring

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Radiolatry

© Guiterman Arthur

The worst of all idolators Are zealous radiolatersWho wreck the peace of erstwhile happy homes With drool of variometers, Detectors, galvanometers,Antennae, switches, batteries and ohms.

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Our Suburb

© Guiterman Arthur

Our Garden Spot is always bright and pretty (Of course it's rather soggy when it rains),And only thirty minutes from the city (Of course you have to catch the proper trains)

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The Flying Fish

© Gray John Henry

Magnae Deus potentiaequi fertili natos aquapartim relinquis gurgitipartim levas in aera.

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Ye Wearie Wayfarer Hys Ballad. Fytte 5. Lex Talionis

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

And if there's blood upon his hand,'Tis but the blood of deer. -- W. Scott.

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The Deserted Village, A Poem

© Oliver Goldsmith

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain,Where health and plenty cheer'd the labouring swain,Where smiling spring its earliest visit paid,And parting summer's lingering blooms delay'd:Dear lovely bowers of innocence and ease,Seats of my youth, when every sport could please,How often have I loiter'd o'er thy green,Where humble happiness endear'd each scene!How often have I paus'd on every charm,The shelter'd cot, the cultivated farm,The never-failing brook, the busy mill,The decent church that topt the neighbouring hill,The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,For talking age and whisp'ring lovers made!How often have I blest the coming day,When toil remitting lent its turn to play,And all the village train, from labour free,Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree;While many a pastime circled in the shade,The young contending as the old survey'd;And many a gambol frolick'd o'er the ground,And sleights of art and feats of strength went round;And still, as each repeated pleasure tir'd,Succeeding sports the mirthful band inspir'd;The dancing pair that simply sought renownBy holding out to tire each other down:The swain mistrustless of his smutted face,While secret laughter titter'd round the place;The bashful virgin's sidelong looks of love,The matron's glance that would those looks reprove:These were thy charms, sweet village! sports like theseWith sweet succession, taught e'en toil to please:These round thy bowers their cheerful influence shed,These were thy charms--but all these charms are fled

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The Rising Village

© Oliver Goldsmith

Thou dear companion of my early years,Partner of all my boyish hopes and fears,To whom I oft addressed the youthful strain,And sought no other praise than thine to gain;Who oft hast bid me emulate his fameWhose genius formed the glory of our name;Say, when thou canst, in manhood's ripened age,With judgment scan the more aspiring page,Wilt thou accept this tribute of my lay,By far too small thy fondness to repay?Say, dearest Brother, wilt thou now excuseThis bolder flight of my adventurous muse? If, then, adown your cheek a tear should flowFor Auburn's Village, and its speechless woe;If, while you weep, you think the

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To The Indifferent Women

© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins

You who are happy in a thousand homes,Or overworked therein, to a dumb peace;Whose souls are wholly centered in the lifeOf that small group you personally love;Who told you that you need not know or careAbout the sin and sorrow of the world?

Do you believe the sorrow of the worldDoes not concern you in your little homes? --That you are licensed to avoid the careAnd toil for human progress, human peace,And the enlargement of our power of loveUntil it covers every field of life?

The one first duty of all human lifeIs to promote the progress of the worldIn righteousness, in wisdom, truth and love;And you ignore it, hidden in your homes,Content to keep them in uncertain peace,Content to leave all else without your care