War poems
/ page 114 of 504 /The Art of Love: Book Two
© Ovid
…Short partings do best, though: time wears out affections,
The absent love fades, a new one takes its place.
After The Storm
© Boris Pasternak
The air is full of after-thunder freshness,
And everything rejoices and revives.
With the whole outburst of its purple clusters
The lilac drinks the air of paradise.
Lost Things
© Sara Teasdale
OH, I could let the world go by,
Its loud new wonders and its wars,
But how will I give up the sky
When winter dusk is set with stars?
A Memory
© Lola Ridge
Inadequate night…
And mooned white memory
Of a tropic sea…
How softly it comes up
Like an ungathered lily.
Charles Sumner. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Fourth)
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Garlands upon his grave
And flowers upon his hearse,
And to the tender heart and brave
The tribute of this verse.
Sonnet LXIV
© Charlotte Turner Smith
HERE from the restless bed of lingering pain
The languid sufferer seeks the tepid wave,
And feels returning health and hope again
Disperse 'the gathering shadows of the grave!'
The Missionary - Canto Fifth
© William Lisle Bowles
Three years have passed since a fond husband left
Me and this infant, of his love bereft;
Him I have followed; need I tell thee more,
Cast helpless, friendless, hopeless, on this shore.
Maureen
© John Todhunter
O, you plant the pain in my heart with your wistful eyes,
Girl of my choice, Maureen!
The Ghost-Seer
© James Russell Lowell
Ye who, passing graves by night,
Glance not to the left or right,
Kore
© Frederic Manning
Yea, she hath passed hereby, and blessed the sheaves,
And the great garths, and stacks, and quiet farms,
And all the tawny, and the crimson leaves.
Yea, she hath passed with poppies in her arms,
Under the star of dusk, through stealing mist,
And blessed the earth, and gone, while no man wist.
A Renunciation
© Henry King
WE, that did nothing study but the way
To love each other, with which thoughts the day
Tis Finished
© Henry Clay Work
'Tis finished! 'tis ended!
The dread and awful task is done;
Tho' wounded and bleeding,
'tis ours to sing the vict'ry won,
Our nation is ransom'd-our enemies are overthrown
And now, now commoners, the brightest era ever known.
Religious Musings : A Desultory Poem Written On The Christmas Eve Of 1794
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
What tho' first,
In years unseason'd, I attuned the lay
To idle passion and unreal woe?
Yet serious truth her empire o'er my song
The Cloud Messenger - Part 03
© Kalidasa
Where the palaces are worthy of comparison to you in these various aspects:
you possess lightning, they have lovely women; you have a rainbow, they are
furnished with pictures; they have music provided by resounding drums, you
produce deep, gentle rumbling; you have water within, they have floors made
of gemstones; you are lofty, their rooftops touch the sky;
The Song Of Hiawatha XVII: The Hunting Of Pau-Puk Keewis
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Full of wrath was Hiawatha
When he came into the village,
An Italian To Italy
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Along the coast of those bright seas,
Where sternly fought of old
The Pisan and the Genoese,
Into the evening gold