War poems
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How Salvator Won
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
The gate was thrown open, I rode out alone,
More proud than a monarch who sits on a throne.
I am but a jockey, yet shout upon shout
Went up from the people who watched me ride out;
And the cheers that rang forth from that warm-hearted crowd,
Were as earnest as those to which monarch e'er bowed.
The Princes' Quest - Part the First
© William Watson
There was a time, it passeth me to say
How long ago, but sure 'twas many a day
At Her Door
© Roderic Quinn
OPEN! Open! Open!
I am here at your door outside;
The sea's blue tide flows speedily,
And ebbs a thin red tide."
The Fallen Elm
© Alfred Austin
The popinjay screamed from tree to tree,
Then was lost in the burnished leaves;
The sky was as blue as a southern sea,
And the swallow came back to the eaves.
The Cypress-Tree Of Ceylon
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THEY sat in silent watchfulness
The sacred cypress-tree about,
And, from beneath old wrinkled brows,
Their failing eyes looked out.
Esther, A Sonnet Sequence: IX
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I stopped, I listened, and I entered in,
With half--a--dozen more, that sight to see.
``The Booth of Beauty,'' 'twas a name of sin
Which seemed to promise a new mystery.
The Sensitive Plant
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
PART 1.
A Sensitive Plant in a garden grew,
And the young winds fed it with silver dew,
And it opened its fan-like leaves to the light.
And closed them beneath the kisses of Night.
Monday Before Easter
© John Keble
"Father to me thou art and mother dear,
And brother too, kind husband of my heart -
So speaks Andromache in boding fear,
Ere from her last embrace her hero part -
So evermore, by Faith's undying glow,
We own the Crucified in weal or woe.
Mary in Bethlehem: A Nativity
© Arthur Symons
JOSEPH
The night is blue, with stars of gold;
The middle watch of night is past;
See now, it will be morning soon!
Yet there is time enough for sleep.
[He shuts the door, and stands near the manger. ]
Bereft.
© Arthur Henry Adams
FOR nine drear nights my darling has been dead;
And ah, dear God! I cannot dream of her!
Now I shall see her always lying white
A frozen flower beneath a snow of flowers,
In Hyde Park.
© Arthur Henry Adams
The white mist walks between the trees
In silver gown;
Her mystic floating draperies
The branches drown;
From My Childhood Days
© Friedrich Rückert
From my childhood days, from my childhood days,
Rings an old song's plaintive tone--
Oh, how long the ways, oh, how long the ways
I since have gone!
How John Quit The Farm
© James Whitcomb Riley
Nobody on the old farm here but Mother, me and John,
Except, of course, the extry he'p when harvest-time come on--
And then, I want to say to you, we _needed_ he'p about,
As you'd admit, ef you'd a-seen the way the crops turned out!
Daisies
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Cover, white snowflakes, the spot where they lie,
Scarce living the length of a winter's short noon.
Oh! cover them whitely that no one may find
The grave of my daisies that blossomed too soon.
The Battle Of Ivry
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Now glory to the Lord of hosts, from whom all glories are!
And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre!
White Nassau
© Bliss William Carman
She's ringed with surf and coral, she's crowned with sun and palm;
She has the old-world leisure, the regal tropic calm;
The trade winds fan her forehead; in everlasting June
She reigns from deep verandas above her blue lagoon.
The Brus Book III
© John Barbour
[The lord of Lorn attacks the king's men]
The lord off Lorne wonnyt thar-by
Lover's Quarrels
© Edith Nesbit
JOIN hands, my dear, clasp long and close and fast,
Even this present we shall soon call past,
And lay among the unforgotten days,
Not the less loved because they could not last.
A Wreath Of Sonnets (8/14)
© France Preseren
Where tempests roar and nature is unkind:
Such was our land since Samo's rule had passed
With Samo's spirit - now an icy blast
Sweeps o'er his grave reft from the nation's mind.
