War poems
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Shakespeares Grave
© Robinson Jeffers
Doggerel," he thought, "will do for church-wardens,
Poetry's precious enough not to be wasted,"
Honours -- Part I
© Jean Ingelow
To strive-and fail. Yes, I did strive and fail;
I set mine eyes upon a certain night
To find a certain star-and could not hail
With them its deep-set light.
The Ladle. A Tale
© Matthew Prior
Our gods the outward gates unbarr'd;
Our farmer met 'em in the yard;
Thought they were folks that lost their way,
And ask'd them civilly to stay;
Told 'em for supper or for bed
They might go on and be worse sped. -
The Vision Of Augustine And Monica
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Mother, because thine eyes are sealed in sleep,
And thy cheeks pale, and thy lips cold, and deep
In silence plunged, so fathomlessly still
Thou liest, and relaxest all thy will,
Love And Liberty
© Horace Smith
The linnet had flown from its cage away,
And flitted and sang in the light of day--
Had flown from the lady who loved it well,
In Liberty's freer air to dwell.
Alas! poor bird, it was soon to prove,
Sweeter than Liberty is Love.
By The Grave Of Henry Timrod
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN last we parted--thy frail hand in mine--
Above us smiled September's passionless sky,
And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pine
Thrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;
The Doe: A Fragment (From Wandering Willie)
© George Meredith
And-'Yonder look! yoho! yoho!
Nancy is off!' the farmer cried,
Mr. Francis Beaumont's Letter to Ben Jonson
© Francis Beaumont
The sun, which doth the greatest comfort bring
To absent friends (because the self-same thing
To Albius Tibullus
© Eugene Field
Not to lament that rival flame
Wherewith the heartless Glycera scorns you,
Nor waste your time in maudlin rhyme,
How many a modern instance warns you!
Baby's Birthday
© Edith Nesbit
BEFORE your life that is to come,
Love stands with eager eyes, that vainly
Seek to discern what gift may fit
The slow unfolding years of it;
And still Time's lips are sealed and dumb,
And still Love sees no future plainly.
Edwin and Angela, A Ballad
© Oliver Goldsmith
'Turn, gentle hermit of the dale,
And guide my lonely way,
To where yon taper cheers the vale
With hospitable ray.
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 2
© Publius Vergilius Maro
ALL were attentive to the godlike man,
When from his lofty couch he thus began:
The Truth Teller
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The Truth Teller lifts the curtain,
And shows us the people's plight;
The Centennial Cantata.
© Sidney Lanier
Mayflower, Mayflower, slowly hither flying,
Trembling westward o'er yon balking sea,
Hearts within `Farewell dear England' sighing,
Winds without `But dear in vain' replying,
Gray-lipp'd waves about thee shouted, crying
"No! It shall not be!"
St. Michael And All Angels
© John Keble
Ye stars that round the Sun of righteousness
In glorious order roll,
Elegy (Tir'd With The Busy Crouds)
© James Beattie
Tir'd with the busy crouds, that all the day
Impatient throng where Folly's altars flame,
My languid powers dissolve with quick decay,
Till genial Sleep repair the sinking frame.
Uses
© Edith Wharton
AH, from the niggard tree of Time
How quickly fall the hours!
It needs no touch of wind or rime
To loose such facile flowers.
