Peace poems
/ page 97 of 319 /Grass From The Battle-Field
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Small sheaf
Of withered grass, that hast not yet revealed
Thy story, lo! I see thee once more green
And growing on the battle-field,
On that last day that ever thou didst grow!
A Letter
© James Russell Lowell
From Mr. Hosea Biglow To The Hon. J.T. Buckingham, Editor Of The Boston Courier, Covering A Letter From Mr. B. Sawin, Private In The Massachusetts Regiment
This kind o' sogerin' aint a mite like our October trainin',
Near The Snow-Line
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
SLOW toiling upward from' the misty vale,
I leave the bright enamelled zones below;
Ode On The Present Times, 27th January 1795
© Amelia Opie
Lo! Winter drives his horrors round;
Wide o'er the rugged soil they fly;
Fand, A Feerie Act I
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Eithne's Spinning Song
Things of the Earth and things of the Air,
Strengths that we feel though we cannot share,
Shapes that are round us and everywhere.
Jubilate Agno: Fragment B, Part 2
© Christopher Smart
LET PETER rejoice with the MOON FISH who keeps up the life in the waters by night.
Let Andrew rejoice with the Whale, who is array'd in beauteous blue and is a combination of bulk and activity.
To The British Channel
© Robert Bloomfield
Roll, roll thy white waves, and enveloped in foam,
Pour thy tides round the echoing shore;
Thou guard of Old Englandmy country, my home!
And my soul shall rejoice in the roar!
Sweet Is The Solace Of Thy Love
© Anna Laetitia Waring
Sweet is the solace of Thy love,
My Heavenly Friend, to me,
While through the hidden way of faith
I journey home with Thee,
Learning by quiet thankfulness
As a dear child to be.
The Author Upon Himself
© Jonathan Swift
By an old pursued,
A crazy prelate, and a royal prude;
By dull divines, who look with envious eyes
On ev'ry genius that attempts to rise;
Elegy V
© Henry James Pye
Thee, sad Melpomene, I once again
Invoke, nor ask the idly plaintive verse:
The Ghetto
© Lola Ridge
Cool, inaccessible air
Is floating in velvety blackness shot with steel-blue lights,
But no breath stirs the heat
Leaning its ponderous bulk upon the Ghetto
And most on Hester street…
Poland
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Augurs that watched archaic birds
Such plumèd prodigies might read,
The Present Age
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
Say not the age is hard and cold--
I think it brave and grand;
When men of diverse sects and creeds
Are clasping hand in hand.
Sir Raymond of the Castle
© Mary Darby Robinson
NEAR GLARIS, on a mountain's side,
Beneath a shad'wy wood,
With walls of ivy compass'd round,
An ancient Castle stood.
Cyder: Book I
© John Arthur Phillips
What Soil the Apple loves, what Care is due
To Orchats, timeliest when to press the Fruits,
Thy Gift, Pomona, in Miltonian Verse
Adventrous I presume to sing; of Verse
Nor skill'd, nor studious: But my Native Soil
Invites me, and the Theme as yet unsung.
The Old Leaven
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Maurice:
No, Mark, I'm not so easily cross'd;
'Tis true that I've had a run
Of bad luck lately; indeed, I've lost;
Well! somebody else has won.
God Bless Our Native Land
© Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
God bless our native land,
Land of the newly free,
Oh may she ever stand
For truth and liberty.
Two Voices
© Edith Nesbit
COUNTRY
'SWEET are the lanes and the hedges, the fields made red with the clover,
Table Talk
© William Cowper
A. You told me, I remember, glory, built
On selfish principles, is shame and guilt;