War poems
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The Noon Quatrains
© Charles Cotton
THE Day grows hot, and darts his rays
From such a sure and killing place,
The Maid of Gerringong
© Henry Kendall
Rolling through the gloomy gorges, comes the roaring southern blast,
With a sound of torrents flying, like a routed army, past,
Fairy Singing
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
SHE was my love and the pulse of my heart;
Lovely she was as the flowers that start
Straight to the sun from the earth's tender breast,
Sweet as the wind blowing out of the west--
Elana, Elana, my strong one, my white one,
Soft be the wind blowing over your rest!
A Song of Honour
© Ralph Hodgson
I climbed a hill as light fell short,
And rooks came home in scramble sort,
On The Receipt Of My Mother's Picture Out Of Norfolk
© William Cowper
Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thinethy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me
To E. Fitzgerald: Tiresias
© Alfred Tennyson
. OLD FITZ, who from your suburb grange,
Where once I tarried for a while,
HERE I sit with my paper
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
HERE I sit with my paper, my pen my ink,
First of this thing, and that thing,
An Essay on Man: Epistle II
© Alexander Pope
Superior beings, when of late they saw
A mortal Man unfold all Nature's law,
Admir'd such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And showed a Newton as we shew an Ape.
The Road To Ruin
© Siegfried Sassoon
My hopes, my messengers I sent
Across the ten years continent
Of Time. In dream I saw them go--
A Masque Presented At Ludlow Castle, 1634. (Comus)
© John Milton
The Scene changes to a stately palace, set out with all manner of
deliciousness: soft music, tables spread with all dainties. Comus
appears with his rabble, and the LADY set in an enchanted chair;
to
whom he offers his glass; which she puts by, and goes about to
rise.
The Sophomore's Invitation
© William Herbert Carruth
Come out with me, O maiden mine,
Come out and roam the campus;
I'll wield the fairy bug-net thine,
And flounder through the bindweed vine,
A-puffing like a grampus.
The Stirrup Cup
© John Hay
My short and happy day is done,
The long and dreary night comes on;
And at my door the Pale Horse stands,
To carry me to unknown lands.
A Fly About A Glasse Of Burnt Claret.
© Richard Lovelace
I.
Forbear this liquid fire, Fly,
It is more fatal then the dry,
That singly, but embracing, wounds;
And this at once both burns and drowns.
Love Unknown
© George Herbert
Deare friend, sit down, the tale is long and sad:
And in my faintings I presume your love
The Epistle Of Grace Sent To The Seek Man
© Thomas Hoccleve
I' Gracë quen, and heuenly princesse, As depute be the souereyn kyng eterne,In erthe a-lowe to be the gyderesseThat liste the redy wey[ë]s for to lerne,In pilgrymagë him selff to gouerne Gretyng, with yerde & lore of disciplyne,To the that hast, and must be, one of myn.
It is me don to knowe & vnderstonde, Þat, this dethës seruaunt, malady,The hath arrest, and holdith now in hande,And the oppressith, nought knowyng the forwhi.I wil therfore, as for thi remedy, Ordeyne[n] in my best[ë] manere wise;I rede þe that thi self þou wel aduyse.
Camp Followers
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In the old wars of the world there were camp-followers,
Women of ancient sins who gave themselves for hire,
The Spanish Chapel
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
I made a mountain-brook my guide
Thro' a wild Spanish glen,
And wandered, on its grassy side,
Far from the homes of men.
