War poems
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For An Autumn festival
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The Persian's flowery gifts, the shrine
Of fruitful Ceres, charm no more;
The woven wreaths of oak and pine
Are dust along the Isthmian shore.
To Alex. Smith, The 'Glasgow Poet,' On His Sonnet To 'Fame'
© George Meredith
Not vainly doth the earnest voice of man
Call for the thing that is his pure desire!
Anticipation
© Madison Julius Cawein
Windy the sky and mad;
Surly the gray March day;
Bleak the forests and sad,
Sad for the beautiful May.
Crazed
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
'The Spring again hath started on the course
Wherein she seeketh Summer thro' the Earth.
I will arise and go upon my way.
It may be that the leaves of Autumn hid
His footsteps from me; it may be the snows.
Mare Rubrum
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
FLASH out a stream of blood-red wine,
For I would drink to other days,
Remonstrance
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Bless the dear old verdant land,
Brother, wert thou born of it?
As thy shadow life doth stand,
Twining round its rosy band,
A New Pilgrimage: Sonnet XXIII
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Voltaire and Rousseau, these were thy twin priests,
Proud Mother Nature, on thy opening day.
The first with bitter gibes perplexed the feasts
Of thy high rival, and prepared the way;
The Queen Of Prussia's Tomb
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
In sweet pride upon that insult keen
She smiled; then drooping mute and broken-hearted,
To the cold comfort of the grave departed. ~ Milman.
Naucratia; Or Naval Dominion. Part II.
© Henry James Pye
Yet midst the scene of dread, when certain fate
Rides on the tempest in terrific state,
Bold in the face of death the naval train
Exert their force, and brave the insulting main;
Though rising horrors on their efforts lower,
And the deaf whirlwind mock their useless power.
Olney Hymn 33: Seeking The Beloved
© William Cowper
To those who love the Lord I speak;
Is my Beloved near?
The Bridegroom of my soul I seek,
Oh! when will He appear?
Across The Pampas
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Dost thou remember, oh, dost thou remember,
Here as we sit at home and take our rest,
How we went out one morning on a venture
In the West?
Our Sweet Singer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
ONE memory trembles on our lips;
It throbs in every breast;
In tear-dimmed eyes, in mirth's eclipse,
The shadow stands confessed.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. The Sicilian's Tale; The Monk of Casal-Maggiore
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Once on a time, some centuries ago,
In the hot sunshine two Franciscan friars
That Nature Is Not Subject To Decay (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
Ah, how the Human Mind wearies herself
With her own wand'rings, and, involved in gloom
The World-Saver
© Edgar Lee Masters
If the grim Fates, to stave ennui,
Play whips for fun, or snares for game,
The liar full of ease goes free,
And Socrates must bear the shame.
To Mrs. Barber
© Mary Barber
See, the bright Sun renews his annual Course,
Each Beam re--tinges, and revives its Force,
By Years uninjur'd; so may'st thou remain,
Not Time from thee, but thou from Time may'st gain:
O might the Fates thy vital Thread prolong,
And make thy Life immortal, as thy Song!
The Birth Of Spring
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
O Kathleen, my darling, I've dreamt such a dream,
'Tis as hopeful and bright as the summer's first beam:
Nancy of the Vale
© William Shenstone
The western sky was purpled o'er
With every pleasing ray;
And flocks reviving felt no more
The sultry heats of day;
