War poems
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The Children of Lir
© Katharine Tynan
Out upon the sand-dunes thrive the coarse long grasses;
Herons standing knee-deep in the brackish pool;
Overhead the sunset fire and flame amasses
And the moon to eastward rises pale and cool.
Alfred. Book IV.
© Henry James Pye
"I come," the stranger said, "from fields of fame,
A Saxon born, and Aribert my name.
I come from Devon's shores, where Devon's lord
Waves o'er the prostrate Dane the British sword.
Freedom might yet revisit Britain's coast,
Did Alfred live to lead her victor host."
The Dark Stag
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
A startled stag, the blue-grey Night,
Leaps down beyond black pines.
The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece
© William Cowper
In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.
Summer Sadness
© Stéphane Mallarme
The sun, on the sand, O sleeping wrestler,
Warms a languid bath in the gold of your hair,
Melting the incense on your hostile features,
Mixing an amorous liquid with the tears.
Our Orders
© Julia Ward Howe
WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms,
To deck our girls for gay delights!
The crimson flower of battle blooms,
And solemn marches fill the night.
Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood
© William Cullen Bryant
Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs
No school of long experience, that the world
Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen
Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares,
The Constellations
© William Cullen Bryant
O constellations of the early night,
That sparkled brighter as the twilight died,
And made the darkness glorious! I have seen
Your rays grow dim upon the horizon's edge,
After a Tempest
© William Cullen Bryant
The day had been a day of wind and storm;--
The wind was laid, the storm was overpast,--
And stooping from the zenith, bright and warm
Shone the great sun on the wide earth at last.
Lines Left Upon The Seat Of A Yew-Tree,
© William Wordsworth
which stands near the lake of Esthwaite, on a desolate part of the shore, commanding a beautiful prospect.
NAY, Traveller! rest. This lonely Yew-tree stands
Far from all human dwelling: what if here
No sparkling rivulet spread the verdant herb?
522. SongThe Cardin ot, the Spinning ot
© Robert Burns
I COFT a stane o haslock woo,
To mak a wab to Johnie ot;
For Johnie is my only jo,
I loe him best of onie yet.
445. The Minstel at Lincluden
© Robert Burns
AS I stood by yon roofless tower,
Where the waflowr scents the dery air,
Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower,
And tells the midnight moon her care.
470. SongShe says she loes me best of a
© Robert Burns
SAE flaxen were her ringlets,
Her eyebrows of a darker hue,
Bewitchingly oer-arching
Twa laughing een o lovely blue;
69. Third Epistle to J. Lapraik
© Robert Burns
But stooks are cowpit wi the blast,
And now the sinn keeks in the west,
Then I maun rin amang the rest,
An quat my chanter;
Sae I subscribe myself in haste,
Yours, Rab the Ranter.Sept. 13, 1785.
The Horse & Olive Or Warr & Peace
© Thomas Parnell
With Moral tale let Ancient wisdome move
Which thus I sing to make ye moderns wise
143. Fragment on Sensibility
© Robert Burns
RUSTICITYS ungainly form
May cloud the highest mind;
But when the heart is nobly warm,
The good excuse will find.
The Reeds of Runnymede
© Rudyard Kipling
At Runnymede, At Runnymede,
What say the reeds at Runnymede?
The lissom reeds that give and take,
That bend so far, but never break,
They keep the sleepy Thames awake
With tales of John at Runnymede.
