War poems
/ page 149 of 504 /Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.
© William Cowper
How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.
The Old Leaven
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
Maurice:
No, Mark, I'm not so easily cross'd;
'Tis true that I've had a run
Of bad luck lately; indeed, I've lost;
Well! somebody else has won.
Two Voices
© Edith Nesbit
COUNTRY
'SWEET are the lanes and the hedges, the fields made red with the clover,
Table Talk
© William Cowper
A. You told me, I remember, glory, built
On selfish principles, is shame and guilt;
The Two Masks
© George Meredith
Melpomene among her livid people,
Ere stroke of lyre, upon Thaleia looks,
A Story Of Doom: Book III.
© Jean Ingelow
Above the head of great Methuselah
There lay two demons in the opened roof
Invisible, and gathered up his words;
For when the Elder prophesied, it came
About, that hidden things were shown to them,
And burdens that he spake against his time.
A Certain Evening
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
That night the whole world mingled,
The souls were babes at play,
And angel danced with devil.
And God cried, 'Holiday!'
The Wharf On ThamesSide; Winter Dawn
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Day begins cold and misty on soiled snow
That frost has ridged and crusted. Sound of steps
Comes, then a shape emerges from the mist
Without haste, trudging tracks the feet know well,
Ode To Joy -- With Translation
© Johann Christoph Friedrich Von Schiller
Was den grossen Ring bewohnet,
Huldige der Sympathie!
Zu den Sternen leitet sie,
Wo der Unbekannte thronet.
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book VII - Udyoga -- (The Preparation)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
And to far Hastina's palace Krishna went to sue for peace,
Raised his voice against the slaughter, begged that strife and feud
should cease!
Her Eyes Are Wild
© William Wordsworth
I
HER eyes are wild, her head is bare,
The sun has burnt her coal-black hair;
Her eyebrows have a rusty stain,
Marmion: Introduction to Canto III.
© Sir Walter Scott
Like April morning clouds, that pass,
With varying shadow, o'er the grass,
A Poem. Dedication of the Pittsfield Cemetery
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
The sun shall set, and heavens resplendent spheres
Gild the smooth turf unhallowed yet by tears,
But ah! how soon the evening stars will shed
Their sleepless light around the slumbering dead!
The Shadow Of Death
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I PRAY you, when the shadow of death draws nigh,
To bear me out beneath the unmeasured heaven;
I fain would hear the pine-trees' slumberous sigh,
And watch the cloud flotillas drifted high,
Say Not He Loves Me
© Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev
Say not he loves me as before, as truly, dearly
As once he did… Oh no! My life
He would destroy, he does destroy - though see I clearly
The trembling of the hand that holds the knife.
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 03 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
The camp at great Jerusalem arrives: