War poems
/ page 173 of 504 /
Bomb
© Gregory Corso
Budger of history Brake of time You Bomb
Toy of universe Grandest of all snatched sky I cannot hate you
To His Lady
© Thomas Carew
ASK me no more where Jove bestows,
When June is past, the fading rose;
For in your beauties' orient deep,
These flow'rs, as in their causes, sleep.
Wild Europe
© Katharine Lee Bates
WILD Europe, red with Woden's dreadful dew,
On fire with Loki's hate, more savage than
The Delibash
© Alexander Pushkin
With the hostile camp in skirmish
Our men once were changing shot,
Pranced the Delibash his charger
'Fore our ranks of Cossacks hot.
The Bay Of Seven Islands
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The skipper sailed out of the harbor mouth,
Leaving the apple-bloom of the South
For the ice of the Eastern seas,
In his fishing schooner Breeze.
July
© Hilaire Belloc
And reading how, in that far month, the ranks
Formed on the edge of the desert, armoured all,
I wish to God that I had been with them
When the first Norman leapt upon the wall,
And Godfrey led the foremost of the Franks,
And young Lord Raymond stormed Jerusalem.
The Old Tune
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
THIS shred of song you bid me bring
Is snatched from fancy's embers;
Ah, when the lips forget to sing,
The faithful heart remembers!
My Nannie, O
© Robert Burns
Behind yon hills, where Lugar flows,
'Mang moors an' mosses many, O,
The wintry sun the day has clos'd,
And I'll awa to Nannie, O.
Bridegroom Dick
© Herman Melville
All this, old lassie, you have heard before,
But you listen again for the sake e'en o' me;
No babble stales o' the good times o' yore
To Joan, if Darby the babbler be.
What Of The Day
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A SOUND of tumult troubles all the air,
Like the low thunders of a sultry sky
Far-rolling ere the downright lightnings glare;
The hills blaze red with warnings; foes draw nigh,
Paradise Lost : Book III.
© John Milton
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn,
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam
The Lord of the Isles: Canto I.
© Sir Walter Scott
Here pause we, gentles, for a space;
And, if our tale hath won your grace,
Grant us brief patience, and again
We will renew the minstrel strain.
Two Scenes From The Life Of Blondel
© James Russell Lowell
SCENE I.--_Near a castle in Germany._
'Twere no hard task, perchance, to win
Oh, Timballoo! How Happy We Are
© Louisa May Alcott
"Oh, Timballoo! how happy we are,
We live in a sieve and a crockery jar!
Reminiscence
© Padraic Colum
Recalling long ago. And she will hop
The inches of her crib, this narrow shop,
When you step in to be her customer:
A bird of little worth, a sparrow, say,
Whose crib's in such neglected passageway
That one's left wondering who brings crumbs to her.
The Convict
© Robert Laurence Binyon
By the warm road--side, where chestnut and thorn
The brightness shaded, supine, at ease,
A felon, freed that morn,
Lay idle, and wondered, gazing up through the trees.
Beauty and Hate
© John Le Gay Brereton
I have sought and followed you, drunk with your sacred wine;
Led out by a laughing wind on a tumbling sea,
