War poems
/ page 365 of 504 /
Burial of the Dead
© John Keble
I thought to meet no more, so dreary seem'd
Death's interposing veil, and thou so pure,
On the Earl of Essex
© Henry King
Essex twice made unhappy by a Wife,
Yet Marry'd worse unto the Peoples strife:
He who by two Divorces did untie
His Bond of Wedlock and of Loyalty:
Ode on Intimations of Immortality
© William Wordsworth
There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,
The earth, and every common sight
The Convent Threshold
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
There's blood between us, love, my love,
There's father's blood, there's brother's blood,
And blood's a bar I cannot pass.
I choose the stairs that mount above,
The Prince's Progress (excerpt)
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
"Too late for love, too late for joy,
Too late, too late!
You loitered on the road too long,
You trifled at the gate:
Holy Innocents
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Sleep, little Baby, sleep,
The holy Angels love thee,
And guard thy bed, and keep
A blessed watch above thee.
In Progress
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Ten years ago it seemed impossible
That she should ever grow so calm as this,
With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss
And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well.
The Bachelor
© John Crowe Ransom
THE wind went cold as the day went old,
And I went very sad,
Till I saw something by the road
That brought me round and glad.
St. Jeanne Rides Out (for Amy Lowell)
© Margaret Widdemer
St. Jeanne she sat with Michaël,
With Marguerite and Raphaël,
The Right Honourable Edmund Burke
© William Lisle Bowles
Why mourns the ingenuous Moralist, whose mind
Science has stored, and Piety refined,
Goblin Market
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Laura stretched her gleaming neck
Like a rush-imbedded swan,
Like a lily from the beck,
Like a moonlit poplar branch,
Like a vessel at the launch
When its last restraint is gone.
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 12
© William Langland
The glose graunteth upon that vers a greet mede to truthe.
And wit and wisdom,' quod that wye, " was som tyme tresor
To kepe with a commune - no catel was holde bettre -
And muche murthe and manhod' - and right with that he vanysshed.
Bride Song
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
From 'The Prince's Progress' TOO late for love, too late for joy,
Too late, too late!
You loiter'd on the road too long,
You trifled at the gate:
The Song Of The Sandwich
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
We met at night in the season's hight,
Mid revel and mirth and song.
I looked in your eye with a mute, mute cry,
As you elbowed your way through the throng.
The Youth of England To Garibaldi's Legend
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
O ye who by the gaping earth
Where, faint with resurrection, lay
An empire struggling into birth,
Her storm-strown beauty cold with clay,
The free winds round her flowery head,
Her feet still rooted with the dead,
The Southerly Buster
© Henry Lawson
There's a wind that blows out of the South in the drought,
And we pray for the touch of his breath
Promises Like Pie-Crust
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Promise me no promises,
So will I not promise you:
Keep we both our liberties,
Never false and never true:
Winter: My Secret
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
I tell my secret? No indeed, not I:
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not today; it froze, and blows, and snows,
And you're too curious: fie!
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.
What Would I Give
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
What would I give for a heart of flesh to warm me through,
Instead of this heart of stone ice-cold whatever I do!
Hard and cold and small, of all hearts the worst of all.
