Peace poems
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More Females of the Species
© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins
When the traveller in the pasture meets the he-bull in his pride,He shouts to scare the monster, who will often turn aside;But the milch cow, thus accosted, pins the traveller to the rail
I Would Fain Die a Dry Death
© Gilman Charlotte Anna Perkins
The American public is patient, The American public is slow,The American public will stand as much As any public I know
The War of the Ghosts
© William Gay
Three Ghosts that haunt me have I, Three Ghosts in my soul that fight,Three grandsire Ghosts in my soul, That haunt me by day and by night.
Trivia; or, the Art of Walking the Streets of London
© John Gay
Thus far the Muse has trac'd in useful laysThe proper implements for wintry ways;Has taught the walker, with judicious eyes,To read the various warnings of the skies
The Jewish Conscript
© Frank Florence Kiper
There are nearly a quarter of a million Jews in the Czar's army alone. (Newspaper clipping)
Christ's Triumph after Death
© Giles Fletcher The Younger
IBegan to glister in her beams, and nowThe roses of the day began to flow'rIn th' eastern garden; for Heav'ns smiling browHalf insolent for joy begun to show: The early Sun came lively dancing out, And the brag lambs ran wantoning about,That heav'n, and earth might seem in triumph both to shout
The Doubt of Future Foes
© Elizabeth I
The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy,And wit me warns to shun such snares as threaten mine annoy;For falsehood now doth flow, and subjects' faith doth ebb,Which should not be if reason ruled or wisdom weaved the web
The Young Captive
© Toru Dutt
The budding shoot ripens unharmed by the scythe,Without fear of the press, on vine branches lithe, Through spring-tide the green clusters bloom
An Evening Contemplation in a College
© Duncombe John
The Curfew tolls the hour of closing gates,With jarring sound the porter turns the key,Then in his dreary mansion slumb'ring waits,And slowly, sternly quits it -- tho' for me.
Madrigal: My Thoughts Hold Mortal Strife
© William Drummond (of Hawthornden)
My thoughts hold mortal strife,I do detest my life,And with lamenting cries,Peace to my soul to bring,Oft calls that prince which here doth monarchize;But he, grim-grinning king,Who caitiffs scorns and doth the blest surprise, Late having deck'd with beauty's rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and will not come
Idea LI
© Michael Drayton
Calling to mind since first my love begun,Th' incertain times oft varying in their course,How things still unexpectedly have run,As t' please the fates by their resistless force:Lastly, mine eyes amazedly have seenEssex' great fall, Tyrone his peace to gain,The quiet end of that long-living Queen,This King's fair entrance, and our peace with Spain,We and the Dutch at length ourselves to sever:Thus the world doth and evermore shall reel
Weep You No More, Sad Fountains
© Dowland John
Weep you no more, sad fountains; What need you flow so fast?Look how the snowy mountains Heaven's sun doth gently waste
Beyond
© Dolben Digby (Mackworth)
Beyond the calumny and wrong,Beyond the clamour and the throng,Beyond the praise and triumph-song, He passed
To My Spinning-Wheel
© Dixon Charlotte Eliza
I love thee well my little wheel,And why I love thee I can tell:When tir'd of folly, shew and noise,Of feeling griefs, and feigning joys,Of visiting, and company,And all that's called society,I sought in solitude and peace,To sooth a mind too ill at ease,Thou kindly then thy aid didst lend,I found in thee almost a friend
Cowboy on Horse in Desert
© Pier Giorgio Di Cicco
Little cowboy, painted ona paint-by-numbers picturefound in a junk shop
Cooper's Hill (1655)
© Sir John Denham
Sure there are poets which did never dreamUpon Parnassus, nor did taste the streamOf Helicon, we therefore may supposeThose made not poets, but the poets those
