War poems
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 7
© Publius Vergilius Maro
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame,
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name;
Don Juan: Canto The Second
© George Gordon Byron
Oh ye! who teach the ingenuous youth of nations,
Holland, France, England, Germany, or Spain,
Italy : 41. An Adventure
© Samuel Rogers
Three days they lay in ambush at my gate,
Then sprung and led me captive. Many a wild
We traversed; but Rusconi, 'twas no less,
Marched by my side, and, when I thirsted, climbed
To John Milton
© John Clare
Poet of mighty power, I fain
Would court the muse that honoured thee,
And, like Elisha's spirit, gain
A part of thy intensity;
And share the mantle which she flung
Around thee, when thy lyre was strung.
Epilogue to the 'Good Natur'd Man'
© Oliver Goldsmith
As puffing quacks some caitiff wretch procure
To swear the pill, or drop, has wrought a cure;
The Mothers Last Watch
© Caroline Norton
Written on the occasion of the death of the infant daughter of Her Grace the Duchess of Sutherland.
I.
HARK, through the proudly decorated halls,
How strangely sounds the voice of bitter woe,
Rubia (Blonde)
© Andres Bello
¿Sabes, rubia, qué gracia solicito
cuando de ofrendas cubro los altares?
No ricos muebles, no soberbios lares,
ni una mesa que adule al apetito.
The Cambridge Churchyard
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Our ancient church! its lowly tower,
Beneath the loftier spire,
To the Spirit of Music
© Henry Kendall
How sweet is wandering where the west
Is full of thee, what time the morn
Looks from his halls of rosy rest
Across green miles of gleaming corn!
Woman On The Field Of Battle
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Where hath not a woman stood,
Strong in affection's might? a reed, upborne
By an o'er mastering current!
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto VIII.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
V The Praise of Love
Spirit of Knowledge, grant me this:
A simple heart and subtle wit
To praise the thing whose praise it is
That all which can be praised is it.
Sonnet XLIV: O Be Not Griev'd
© Samuel Daniel
O be not griev'd that these my papers should
Betray unto the world how fair thou art,
Russia
© Katharine Lee Bates
WHAT sudden voice peals to the Caucasus,
To Finland and the bitter Caspian,
The Call
© George Meredith
Under what spell are we debased
By fears for our inviolate Isle,
Whose record is of dangers faced
And flung to heel with even smile?
Is it a vaster force, a subtler guile?
Ben Jonson: III
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
Nor less, high-stationed on the grey grave heights,
High-thoughted seers with heavens heart-kindling lights
Hold converse: and the herd of meaner things
Knows or by fiery scourge or fiery shaft
When wrath on thy broad brows has risen, and laughed,
Darkening thy soul with shadow of thunderous wings.
Self-Study
© James Russell Lowell
A presence both by night and day,
That made my life seem just begun,
Yet scarce a presence, rather say
The warning aureole of one.
Elegy on a Lady, whom Grief for the Death of her Betrothed Killed
© Robert Seymour Bridges
Cloak her in ermine, for the night is cold,
And wrap her warmly, for the night is long;
In pious hands the flaming torches hold,
While her attendants, chosen from among
The Heroins Or Cupid Punishd Transl: From Ausonius.
© Thomas Parnell
In airy fields ye fields of bliss below
Where woods of Myrtle sett by Maro grow
Where grass beneath & shade diffusd above
Refresh the feavour of distracted Love
There at a solemn tide ye Beautys slain
By tender passion act their fates again
Psalm
© Georg Trakl
It is a light, that the wind has extinguished.
It is a pub on the heath, that a drunk departs in the afternoon.
