War poems
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Raising The Dead
© John Kenyon
We all have heard, and marvelled as we heard,
Of seers, who have raised the Dead from out their tombs,
The Red Mist
© Roderic Quinn
SHE thinks aloud as she sits alone,
And the magpies call in the evening grey
Oh, sorrow to her with the heart of stone
Who stole my lover away, away!
Rubaiyat 39
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
With good company and harp and reed
In a corner, jug of wine and time to heed,
The warmth of wine runs through my veins,
Why should I succumb to my greed?
Album Verses
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
WHEN Eve had led her lord away,
And Cain had killed his brother,
The stars and flowers, the poets say,
Agreed with one another.
Juvenilia, An OdeTo Natural Beauty
© Alan Seeger
There is a power whose inspiration fills
Nature's fair fabric, sun- and star-inwrought,
The Apparition
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Gentle angel with your mantle,
All of tender green,
I was yearning for a vision
Of the life unseen.
Song of Unending Sorrow.
© Bai Juyi
China's Emperor, craving beauty that might shake an empire,
Was on the throne for many years, searching, never finding,
Macaw and Little Miss
© Ted Hughes
In a cage of wire-ribs
The size of a man's head, the macaw bristles in a staring
The Beginning
© Jean Ingelow
Such as can see,
Why should they doubt? The childhood of a race.
The childhood of a soul, hath neither doubt
Nor fear. Where all is super-natural
The guileless heart doth feed on it, no more
Afraid than angels are of heaven.
A Dream Of Bric-A-Brac
© John Hay
I dreamed I was in fair Niphon.
Amid tea-fields I journeyed on,
Reclined in my jinrikishaw;
Across the rolling plains I saw
The lordly Fusi-yama rise,
His blue cone lost in bluer skies.
The Light Of Love
© John Hay
Each shining light above us
Has its own peculiar grace;
But every light of heaven
Is in my darling's face.
Letter In November
© Sylvia Plath
Love, the world
Suddenly turns, turns color. The streetlight
Splits through the rat's tail
Pods of the laburnum at nine in the morning.
It is the Arctic,
The Maple Tree
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Well have Canadians chosen thee
As the emblem of their land,
The Dance
© Hart Crane
Mythical brows we saw retiringloth,
Disturbed and destined, into denser green.
Greeting they sped us, on the arrows oath:
Now lie incorrigibly what years between . .
Written On A Ladys Fan
© Henry James Pye
In ancient times when like La Mancha's Knight
The adventurous Hero sallied forth to fight,
The Authors: A Satire
© Richard Savage
"HOLD, Criticks cry-Erroneous are your Lays,
"Your Field was Satire, your Pursuit is Praise."
True, you Profound!-I praise, but yet I sneer;
You're dark to Beauties, if to Errors clear!
Know my Lampoon's in Panegyric seen,
For just Applause turns Satire on your Spleen.
The Poor Man's Guest
© Edith Nesbit
ONE came to me in royal guise
With banners flying fair and free
But many griefs had made me wise
And I refused to bow the knee.
The Witch of Hebron
© Charles Harpur
Of golden lamps, showed many a treasure rare
Of Indian and Armenian workmanship
Which might have seemed a wonder of the world:
And trains of servitors of every clime,
Greeks, Persians, Indians, Ethiopians,
In richest raiment thronged the spacious halls.
