War poems
/ page 120 of 504 /
The Truce And The Peace
© Robinson Jeffers
(NOVEMBER, 1918)
Peace now for every fury has had her day,
The Borough. Letter XV: Inhabitants Of The Alms-House. Clelia
© George Crabbe
Another term is past; ten other years
In various trials, troubles, views, and fears:
Of these some pass'd in small attempts at trade;
Houses she kept for widowers lately made;
For now she said, "They'll miss th' endearing
The Shepherd's Week : Tuesday; or, the Ditty
© John Gay
Marian.
Young Colin Clout, a lad of peerless meed,
Fairy Favours
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Wouldst thou wear the gift of immortal bloom?
Wouldst thou smile in scorn at the shadowy tomb?
Drink of this cup! it is richly fraught
With balm from the gardens of genii brought;
Drink, and the spoiler shall pass thee by,
When the young all scatter'd like rose-leaves lie.
Woman To Child
© Judith Wright
You who were darkness warmed my flesh
where out of darkness rose the seed.
Then all a world I made in me;
all the world you hear and see
hung upon my dreaming blood.
Whitsunday
© John Keble
When God of old came down from Heaven,
In power and wrath He came;
Before His feet the clouds were riven,
Half darkness and half flame:
Ode to a Lady on the Spring
© Joseph Warton
Lo! Spring, array'd in primrose-colour'd robe,
Fresh beauties sheds on each enliven'd scene,
With show'rs and sunshine cheers the smiling globe,
And mantles hill and vale in glowing green.
Gratitude, Addressed To Lady Hesketh
© William Cowper
This cap, that so stately apepars,
With ribbon-bound tassel on high,
Which seems by the crest that it rears
Ambitious of brushing the sky;
Inscription On A Cenotaph In A Garden, Erected To A Deceased Friend
© Hannah More
Ye lib'ral souls who rev'rence Friendship's name,
Who boast her blessings, and who feel her flame;
Scotch Drink
© Robert Burns
Let other poets raise a fracas
Bout vines, and wines, an drucken Bacchus,
An crabbit names an stories wrack us,
An grate our lug:
I sing the juice Scotch bear can mak us,
In glass or Jug.
Brothers
© James Weldon Johnson
See! There he stands; not brave, but with an air
Of sullen stupor. Mark him well! Is he
Not more like brute than man? Look in his eye!
No light is there; none, save the glint that shines
In the now glaring, and now shifting orbs
Of some wild animal caught in the hunter's trap.
At The Ferry
© Madison Julius Cawein
Oh, dim and wan came in the dawn,
And gloomy closed the day;
The killdee whistled among the weeds,
The heron flapped in the river reeds,
And the snipe piped far away.
Lycus the Centaur
© Thomas Hood
FROM AN UNROLLED MANUSCRIPT OF APOLLONIUS CURIUS
(The Argument: Lycus, detained by Circe in her magical dominion, is beloved by a Water Nymph, who, desiring to render him immortal, has recourse to the Sorceress. Circe gives her an incantation to pronounce, which should turn Lycus into a horse; but the horrible effect of the charm causing her to break off in the midst, he becomes a Centaur).
ER RIFUGGIO (The Refuge)
© Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
A le curte: te vòi sbrigà d'Aggnesa
Senza er risico tuo? Be', tu pprocura
D'ammazzalla vicino a quarche chiesa:
Poi scappa drento, e nun avé ppavura.
Solomon on the Vanity of the World, A Poem. In Three Books. - Power. Book III.
© Matthew Prior
Come then, my soul: I call thee by that name,
Thou busy thing, from whence I know I am;
For, knowing that I am, I know thou art,
Since that must needs exist which can impart:
But how thou camest to be, or whence thy spring,
For various of thee priests and poets sing.
Homer's Hymn To Minerva
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I sing the glorious Power with azure eyes,
Athenian Pallas! tameless, chaste, and wise,
Tritogenia, town-preserving Maid,
Revered and mighty; from his awful head
Lepanto
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Cervantes on his galley sets the sword back in the sheath
(Don John of Austria rides homeward with a wreath.)
And he sees across a weary land a straggling road in Spain,
Up which a lean and foolish knight forever rides in vain,
And he smiles, but not as Sultans smile, and settles back the blade. . .
