War poems
/ page 143 of 504 /Song 2
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
SUCCESS to the heroes of gallant Castile,
Undaunted in danger, victorious in fight!
May they teach proud oppressors and tyrants to feel,
The patriot's arm of invincible might!
March
© William Carlos Williams
But! now for the battle!
Now for murder-now for the real thing!
My third springtime is approaching!
Winds!
lean, serious as a virgin,
seeking, seeking the flowers of March.
Revelation
© Aldous Huxley
Pure knowledge from this tainted well,
And now hears voices yet unheard
Within it, and without it sees
That world of which the poets tell
Their vision in the stammered word
Of those that wake from piercing ecstasies.
The Zouaves At Bethel
© Anonymous
Five Zouaves killed! - one thousand in all -
Five from a thousand? Then he may be one.
If in the havoc of bayonet and ball,
So many were killed, one may be my son.
And death, to the boy, all the glory he won.
Crows At Washington
© John Hay
Slow flapping to the setting sun
By twos and threes, in wavering rows.
As twilight shadows dimly close,
The crows fly over Washington.
Agamemnons Tomb
© Emma Lazarus
Uplift the ponderous, golden mask of death,
And let the sun shine on him as it did
A Song of Defeat
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The line breaks and the guns go under,
The lords and the lackeys ride the plain;
The Ring And The Book - Chapter X - The Pope
© Robert Browning
Then Stephen, Pope and seventh of the name,
Cried out, in synod as he sat in state,
While choler quivered on his brow and beard,
Come into court, Formosus, thou lost wretch,
That claimedst to be late the Pope as I!
The Smoker Parrot
© John Shaw Neilson
He has the full moon on his breast,
The moonbeams are about his wing;
Hymns to the Night : 6 : Longing for Death
© Novalis
Blessed be the everlasting Night,
And blessed the endless slumber.
We are heated by the day too bright,
And withered up with care.
We're weary of a life abroad,
And we now want our Father's home.
Epipsychidion: Passages Of The Poem, Or Connected Therewith
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
To the oblivion whither I and thou,
All loving and all lovely, hasten now
With steps, ah, too unequal! may we meet
In one Elysium or one winding-sheet!
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 11
© Publius Vergilius Maro
SCARCE had the rosy Morning raisd her head
Above the waves, and left her watry bed;
Le Monocle de Mon Oncle
© Wallace Stevens
Mother of heaven, regina of the clouds,
O sceptre of the sun, crown of the moon,
Jonathan to John
© James Russell Lowell
It don't seem hardly right, John,
When both my hands was full,