War poems
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The Curse Of The Charter-Breakers
© John Greenleaf Whittier
IN Westminster's royal halls,
Robed in their pontificals,
England's ancient prelates stood
For the people's right and good.
The Refuge
© Katharine Tynan
I will lift mine eyes to the mountains,
To the mountains whence cometh my aid;
I shall drink of the Mercy's crystal fountains,
And shall not be afraid.
An Elegie. Princesse Katherine Borne, Christened, Buried, I
© Richard Lovelace
Bright soule! teach us, to warble with what feet
Thy swathing linnen and thy winding sheet,
Weepe, or shout forth that fonts solemnitie,
Which at once christn'd and buried thee,
And change our shriller passions with that sound,
First told thee into th' ayre, then to the ground.
Inheritance
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
To a bare blue hill
Wings an old thought roaming,
At a random touch
Of memory homing.
Horses
© Edwin Muir
Those lumbering horses in the steady plough,
On the bare field - I wonder, why, just now,
They seemed terrible, so wild and strange,
Like magic power on the stony grange.
The Meetings Of The Flowers
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
There is within this world of ours
Full many a happy home and hearth;
What time, the Saviour's blessed birth
Makes glad the gloom of wintry hours.
The Last Ride Together (after Browning)
© James Kenneth Stephen
(From Her Point of View)
When I had firmly answered 'No',
Ephesus
© John Newton
Thus saith the Lord to Ephesus,
And thus he speaks to some of us;
Amidst my churches, lo, I stand,
And hold the pastors in my hand.
Paraphrases From Scriptures.
© Helen Maria Williams
Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should
not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea,
they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.
The Two Majors
© William Schwenck Gilbert
An excellent soldier who's worthy the name
Loves officers dashing and strict:
When good, he's content with escaping all blame,
When naughty, he likes to be licked.
The Old Deer
© Ndre Mjeda
The shepherds abandoned the alpine pastures
For the warmth of the lowland valleys,
Sauntering down the trails, talking loudly
About women and laughing
Beside the water of the stream bubbling forth
From well to well.
El Harith
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Lightly took she her leave of me, Asmá--u,
went no whit as a guest who outstays a welcome;
Went forgetting our trysts, Burkát Shemmá--u,
all the joys of our love, our love's home, Khalsá--u.
Paradise Lost : Book VIII.
© John Milton
The Angel ended, and in Adam's ear
So charming left his voice, that he a while
To George Felton Mathew
© John Keats
Sweet are the pleasures that to verse belong,
And doubly sweet a brotherhood in song;
Nor can remembrance, Mathew! bring to view
A fate more pleasing, a delight more true
The Workbox
© Thomas Hardy
See, here's the workbox, little wife,
That I made of polished oak.'
He was a joiner, of village life;
She came of borough folk.
For Philip Ridgate Esq.
© Thomas Parnell
To friend with fingers quick & limber,
I send this piece of tunefull timber:
Translated From A Sonnet Of Ronsard
© John Keats
Nature withheld Cassandra in the skies
For more adornment a full thousand years;
She took their cream of Beauty's fairest dyes,
And shap'd and tinted her above all Peers:
Daughter by James P. Lenfestey: American Life in Poetry #186 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-20
© Ted Kooser
Every child can be seen as a miracle, and here Minnesota poet James Lenfestey captures the beautiful mystery of a daughter.
Daughter
