War poems
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Dream Song
© Sara Teasdale
I plucked a snow-drop in the spring,
And in my hand too closely pressed;
The warmth had hurt the tender thing,
I grieved to see it withering.
Verses by Lady Geralda
© Anne Brontë
Its sound was music then to me;
Its wild and lofty voice
Made by heart beat exultingly
And my whole soul rejoice.
Shamrock Song
© Katharine Tynan
O, the red rose may be fair,
And the lily statelier;
But my shamrock, one in three,
Takes the very heart of me!
For Ever
© Henry Kendall
OUT of the body for ever,
Wearily sobbing, Oh, whither?
A Soul that hath wasted its chances
Floats on the limitless ether.
To Emilia Lovatelli,
© Frances Anne Kemble
WEEPING BY SHELLEY'S GRAVE IN THE PROTESTANT CEMETERY OF ROME.
Villon
© Basil Bunting
He whom we anatomized
whose words we gathered as pleasant flowers
and thought on his wit and how neatly he described things
speaks
to us, hatching marrow,
broody all night over the bones of a deadman.
Italy : 14. Venice
© Samuel Rogers
There is a glorious City in the Sea.
The Sea is in the broad, the narrow streets,
Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed
Clings to the marble of her palaces.
Sonnet LXX: The Hill Summit
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
This feast-day of the sun, his altar there
In the broad west has blazed for vesper-song;
The Day Of The Daughter Of Hades
© George Meredith
He tells it, who knew the law
Upon mortals: he stood alive
Declaring that this he saw:
He could see, and survive.
A Perfect Strain
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
O BID the minstrel tune his harp,
And bid the minstrel sing;
PARADOX. That it is best for a Young Maid to marry an Old Man
© Henry King
Fair one, why cannot you an old man love?
He may as useful, and more constant prove.
Experience shews you that maturer years
Are a security against those fears
The Old Man with the Broken Arm
© Bai Juyi
At Hsin-fëngan old manfour-score and eight;
The hair on his head and the hair of his eyebrowswhite as the new snow.
The Nixes Song
© Madison Julius Cawein
Vague, vague 'neath darkling waves,
With emerald-curving caves
Evening Prayer
© Edith Nesbit
NOT to the terrible God, avenging, bright,
Whose altars struck their roots in flame and blood,
The Child Of The Islands - Opening
© Caroline Norton
I.
OF all the joys that brighten suffering earth,
What joy is welcomed like a new-born child?
What life so wretched, but that, at its birth,
The Convocation: A Poem
© Richard Savage
The Pagan prey on slaughter'd Wretches Fates,
The Romish fatten on the best Estates,
The British stain what Heav'n has right confest,
And Sectaries the Scriptures falsly wrest.
My Lady Of Whims
© Katharine Lee Bates
(A medieval Spanish legend slanderously setting forth the utter unreason of woman.)
ROMAQUIA sat and wept her
