War poems

 / page 360 of 504 /
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The Long March

© Mao Zedong

The Red Army fears not the trials of the Long March,

Holding light ten thousand crags and torrents.

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The Haglets

© Herman Melville

There, peaked and gray, three haglets fly,
And follow, follow fast in wake
Where slides the cabin-lustre shy,
And sharks from man a glamour take,
Seething along the line of light
In lane that endless rules the war-ship's flight.

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Full Moon and Little Frieda

© Ted Hughes

A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket -
And you listening.
A spider's web, tense for the dew's touch.
A pail lifted, still and brimming - mirror
To tempt a first star to a tremor.

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On A Great Hollow Tree

© William Strode

Preethee stand still awhile, and view this tree
Renown'd and honour'd for antiquitie
By all the neighbour twiggs; for such are all
The trees adjoyning, bee they nere so tall,

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The Lay Of St. Odille

© Richard Harris Barham

Odille was a maid of a dignified race;

Her father, Count Otto, was lord of Alsace;

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Melancholly

© William Strode

Hence, hence, all you vaine delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly:
Ther's nought in this life sweete,

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On Pitz Languard

© John Hay

I stood on the top of Pitz Languard,
And heard three voices whispering low,
Where the Alpine birds in their circling ward
Made swift dark shadows upon the snow.

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An Answer

© Frances Anne Kemble

Could I be sure that I should die

  The moment you had ceased to love me,

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Keepe On Your Maske And Hide Your Eye

© William Strode

Keepe on your maske, and hide your eye,
For with beholding you I dye:
Your fatall beauty, Gorgon-like,
Dead with astonishment will strike;
Your piercing eyes if them I see
Are worse than basilisks to mee.

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An Epitaph On Mr. Fishborne The Great London Benefactor, And His Executor

© William Strode

What are thy gaines, O death, if one man ly
Stretch'd in a bed of clay, whose charity
Doth hereby get occasion to redeeme
Thousands out of the grave: though cold hee seeme

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An Eare-Stringe

© William Strode


When idle words are passing here,
I warne and pull you by the eare.

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Moonlight

© John Kenyon

Not alway from the lessons of the schools,

  Taught evermore by those who trust them not,

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The Vier-Zide

© William Barnes

'Tis zome vo'ks jaÿ to teäke the road,
  An' goo abro'd, a-wand'rèn wide,
  Vrom shere to shere, vrom pleäce to pleäce,
  The swiftest peäce that vo'k can ride.
  But I've a jaÿ 'ithin the door,
  Wi' friends avore the vier-zide.

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A Translation Of The Nightingale Out Of Strada

© William Strode

Now the declining sun 'gan downwards bend
From higher heavens, and from his locks did send
A milder flame, when near to Tiber's flow
A lutinist allay'd his careful woe

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The End Of The Furrow

© William Wilfred Campbell

When we come to the end of the furrow,
  When our last day's work is done,
  We will drink of the long red shaft of light
  That slants from the westering sun.

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Content

© George Herbert

Peace, mutt'ring thoughts, and do not grudge to keep
  Within the walls of your own breast.
Who cannot on his own bed sweetly sleep,
  Can on another's hardly rest.

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In Town

© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

SOMEWHERE there's a willow budding

In a hollow by the river,

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American Feuillage

© Walt Whitman


Whoever you are! how can I but offer you divine leaves, that you also
  be eligible as I am?
How can I but, as here, chanting, invite you for yourself to collect
  bouquets of the incomparable feuillage of These States?

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The Four Ages of Man

© Anne Bradstreet

1.1 Lo now! four other acts upon the stage,
1.2 Childhood, and Youth, the Manly, and Old-age.
1.3 The first: son unto Phlegm, grand-child to water,
1.4 Unstable, supple, moist, and cold's his Nature.

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Warning The Carpenter

© Edgar Albert Guest

My Pa, he took me on his knee an' spanked me for it, too,
An' Ma, she jus' sat down an' cried the whole long evenin' through;
She says there ought to be a law to keep bad men away
From decent neighborhoods like ours where little children play.
You let me get a wallopin'. An' I don't think it fair,
Say! Ain't you got no Pa an' Ma to teach you not to swear?