War poems

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Who

© Sri Aurobindo

In the blue of the sky, in the green of the forest,
Whose is the hand that has painted the glow?
When the winds were asleep in the womb of the ether,
Who was it roused them and bade them to blow?

Autumn Evening

© Frances Darwin Cornford

THE SHADOWS flickering, the daylight dying,
And I upon the old red sofa lying,
The great brown shadows leaping up the wall,
The sparrows twittering; and that is all.

The Pig's Tale

© Lewis Carroll

Little Birds are dining
Warily and well,
Hid in mossy cell: Hid, I say, by waiters
Gorgeous in their gaiters-
I've a Tale to tell.

An active kind of curse. I stood there cursed,
Confounded. I had seized and caught the sense
Of the letter, with its twenty stinging snakes,
In a moment's sweep of eyesight, and I stood
Dazed.-"Ah! not married."

The Burial March Of Dundee

© William Edmondstoune Aytoun

Sound the fife, and cry the slogan-

Let the pibroch shake the air

Ashtaroth: A Dramatic Lyric

© Adam Lindsay Gordon

Orion: But an understanding tacit.
You have prospered much since the day we met;
You were then a landless knight;
You now have honour and wealth, and yet
I never can serve you right.

The Angel In The House. Book II. Canto II.

© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore

III Lais and Lucretia
Did first his beauty wake her sighs?
That's Lais! Thus Lucretia's known:
The beauty in her Lover's eyes
Was admiration of her own.

Rural Morning

© John Clare

And now, when toil and summer's in its prime,
In every vill, at morning's earliest time,
To early-risers many a Hodge is seen,
And many a Dob's heard clattering oer the green.

Sonnet To Sleep

© John Keats

O soft embalmer of the still midnight!
Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
Our gloom-pleas'd eyes, embower'd from the light,
Enshaded in forgetfulness divine;

Marguerite de Roberval

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

Ah, my dear!
I saw you die, and could not help or save
Knowing myself to be the awful care
That weighed thee to thy grave!

The Ghost

© Kenneth Slessor

"BEES of old Spanish wine
Pipe at this Inn to-night,
Music and candleshine
Fill the dim chambers . . . .

Adieu To A Solider

© Walt Whitman

Adieu, dear comrade!
Your mission is fulfill'd-but I, more warlike,
Myself, and this contentious soul of mine,

The Tram (In The Midlands)

© Robert Laurence Binyon

III
A boy with a bunch of primroses!
He sits uneasy, flushed of cheek,
With wandering eyes and does not speak:
His hands are hot; the flowers are his.

The North Star

I was contented with the warm silence,
Sitting by the fire, book on knee;
And fancy uncentred, afloat and astray,
Idled from thought to thought

Jefferson's Daughter

© Anonymous

"It is asserted, on the authority of an American Newspaper, that the
daughter of Thomas Jefferson, late President of the United States, was
sold at New Orleans for $1,000."-Morning Chronicle.

Stars

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored our Earth to joy,
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky ?

Genesis BK XVII

© Caedmon

(ll. 1002-1005) Then the Lord of glory spake unto Cain, and asked
where Abel was. Quickly the cursed fashioner of death made
answer unto Him:

To Play Pianissimo by Lola Haskins: American Life in Poetry #43 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-

© Ted Kooser

Lola Haskins, who lives in Florida, has written a number of poems about musical terms, entitled "Adagio," "Allegrissimo," "Staccato," and so on. Here is just one of those, presenting the gentleness of pianissimo playing through a series of comparisons
To Play Pianissimo

Does not mean silence.
The absence of moon in the day sky
for example.

GOOD People, by your fires to-night
Sit close and praise the red, red wood!
The wind is cold, the moon is white;
With me who wander 'tis not well; it is not well, but God is good.