War poems
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The Dance Of The Seven Deadly Sins
© William Dunbar
Helie harlots on hawtane wise,
Come in with mony sundry guise,
But yet leuch never Mahoun,
While priests come in with bare shaven necks;
Then all the fiends leuch, and made gecks,
Black-Belly and Bawsy Brown.
The French Army In Russia, 1812-13
© William Wordsworth
HUMANITY, delighting to behold
A fond reflection of her own decay,
Hath painted Winter like a traveller old,
Propped on a staff, and, through the sullen day,
An Epistle To William Hogarth
© Charles Churchill
Amongst the sons of men how few are known
Who dare be just to merit not their own!
Provision
© George MacDonald
Above my head the great pine-branches tower;
Backwards and forwards each to the other bends,
Menace
© Katharine Tynan
Oh, when the land is white as milk
With bloom that lets no leaf between,
When trees are clad in grass-green silk
And thrushes sing in a gold screen:
What is it ails Dark Rosaleen?
To My Godchild-Francis M. W. M.
© Francis Thompson
This labouring, vast, Tellurian galleon,
Riding at anchor off the orient sun,
Pharsalia - Book V: The Oracle. The Mutiny. The Storm
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
While soldier thus and chief,
In doubtful sort, against their hidden fate
Devised their counsel, Appius alone
Feared for the chances of the war, and sought
Through Phoebus' ancient oracle to break
The silence of the gods and know the end.
The Muses Threnodie: Eighth Muse
© Henry Adamson
What blooming banks, sweet Earn, or fairest Tay,
Or Almond doth embrace! These many a day
A Pastoral Ode. To the Hon. Sir Richard Lyttleton
© William Shenstone
The morn dispensed a dubious light,
A sudden mist had stolen from sight
Each pleasing vale and hill;
When Damon left his humble bowers,
To guard his flocks, to fence his flowers,
Or check his wandering rill.
Wuthering Heights
© Sylvia Plath
The horizons ring me like faggots,
Tilted and disparate, and always unstable.
The Captive
© James Russell Lowell
It was past the hour of trysting,
But she lingered for him still;
Like a child, the eager streamlet
Leaped and laughed adown the hill,
Happy to be free at twilight
From its toiling at the mill.
On Burning Some Old Letters
© James Russell Lowell
Rarest woods were coarse and rough,
Sweetest spice not sweet enough,
Too impure all earthly fire
For this sacred funeral-pyre;
These rich relics must suffice
For their own dear sacrifice.
Song Of The Rail
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Oh, an ugly thing is an iron rail,
Black, with its face to the dust.
But it carries a message where winged things fail;
It crosses the mountains, and catches the trail,
While the winds and the sea make sport of a sail;
Oh, a rail is a friend to trust.
Recollections Of A Faded Beauty
© Caroline Norton
There was a certain Irishman, indeed,
Who borrowed Cupid's darts to make me bleed.
My aunt said he was vulgar; he was poor,
And his boots creaked, and dirtied her smooth floor.
She hated him; and when he went away,
He wrote--I have the verses to this day:--
A Lover's Quarrel Among the Fairies
© William Butler Yeats
Male Fairies: Do not fear us, earthly maid!
We will lead you hand in hand
By the willows in the glade,
By the gorse on the high land,
"Upon the mountain's distant head"
© William Cullen Bryant
Upon the mountain's distant head,
With trackless snows for ever white,
Where all is still, and cold, and dead,
Late shines the day's departing light.
Mons Angelorum
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
Joshua O father of my soul, I cannot tell.
The burden of the Lord is heavy on me,
And I am broken beneath it.
The Way Of The Bush
© Alice Guerin Crist
A night of storm and wind and rain,
Tall trees bowing beneath the blast
That shakes and rattles the window-pane,
And a thunderous roar as the creek goes past.
