War poems
/ page 315 of 504 /The Yellow Violet
© William Cullen Bryant
When beechen buds begin to swell,
And woods the blue-bird's warble know,
The yellow violet's modest bell
Peeps from last-year's leaves below.
The Passing Of The Century
© Alfred Austin
How shall we comfort the Dying Year?
Beg him to linger, or bid him go?
Ode VII: To The Right Reverend Benjamin Lord Bishop Of Winchester
© Mark Akenside
I. 1.
For toils which patriots have endur'd,
The Last Caesar
© Thomas Bailey Aldrich
In the Elysée, and had lost the day
But that around him flocked his birds of prey,
Sharp-beaked, voracious, hungry for the deed.
'Twixt hope and fear beheld great Cæsar hang!
Meanwhile, methinks, a ghostly laughter rang
Through the rotunda of the Invalides.
Hero And Leander. The Fifth Sestiad
© George Chapman
Now was bright Hero weary of the day,
Thought an Olympiad in Leander's stay.
As Ireland Wore the Green
© Henry Lawson
BY RIGHT of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?
Spring Showers
© James Thomson
The north-east spends his rage; he now shut up
Within his iron cave, th' effusive south
Warms the wide air, and o'er the void of heaven
Breathes the big clouds with vernal showers distent.
Under The Willows
© James Russell Lowell
Frank-hearted hostess of the field and wood,
Gypsy, whose roof is every spreading tree,
Sirmione
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Give me your hand, Beloved! I cannot see;
So close from shadowy--branching tree to tree
Dark leaves hang over us. How vast and still
Night sleeps! and yet a murmur, a low thrill,
Four Riddles
© Lewis Carroll
I
There was an ancient City, stricken down
With a strange frenzy, and for many a day
They paced from morn to eve the crowded town,
And danced the night away.
The Columbiad: Book VI
© Joel Barlow
But of all tales that war's black annals hold,
The darkest, foulest still remains untold;
New modes of torture wait the shameful strife,
And Britain wantons in the waste of life.
Villa Pamphili
© Arthur Symons
The daisies whiten the warm grass :
I see the sun, a shadow, pass:
And I forget that winter was.
Of The Nature Of Things: Book II - Part 03 - Atomic Forms And Their Combinations
© Lucretius
Now come, and next hereafter apprehend
What sorts, how vastly different in form,
Sonnet XLII: Hope Overtaken
© Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I deemed thy garments, O my Hope, were grey,
So far I viewed thee. Now the space between
New Life, New Love
© Henry Lawson
The breezes blow on the river below,
And the fleecy clouds float high,
Autumn Wealth
© Kristijonas Donelaitis
Of course, there is no lack of faithful Christians ,too.
Most of Lithuanians are men of good character;
They love their families, obey the will of God.
Each day live saintly lives, steer clear of all misdeeds,
And rule their modest homes with kind parental care.
Best
© Helen Hunt Jackson
Mother, I see you with your nursery light,
Leading your babies, all in white,
To their sweet rest;
Christ, the Good Shepherd, carries mine tonight,
And that is best.
Constable MCartys Investigations
© Henry Lawson
Most unpleasantly adjacent to the haunts of lower orders
Stood a terrace in the city when the current year began,
Jerusalem Delivered - Book 04 - part 01
© Torquato Tasso
THE ARGUMENT.
Satan his fiends and assembleth all,
Out Of It All
© Edgar Albert Guest
Out of it all shall come splendor and gladness;
Out of the madness and out of the sadness,
Clearer and finer the world shall arise.
Why then keep sorrow and doubt in your eyes?