War poems
/ page 389 of 504 /To The Sighing Strephon
© George Gordon Byron
Your pardon, my friend, if my rhymes did offend;
Your pardon, a thousand times o'er:
From friendship I strove your pangs to remove,
But, I swear, I will do so no more.
The Parish Register - Part II: Marriages
© George Crabbe
made.
Yet now, would Phoebe her consent afford,
Her slave alone, again he'd mount the board;
With her should years of growing love be spent,
And growing wealth;--she sigh'd and look'd consent.
Now, through the lane, up hill, and 'cross the
Earlier Poems : Autumn
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
With what a glory comes and goes the year!
The buds of spring, those beautiful harbingers
The Winds
© William Lisle Bowles
When dark November bade the leaves adieu,
And the gale sung amid the sea-boy's shrouds,
Prometheus Unbound
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
First Voice.
But never bowed our snowy crest
As at the voice of thine unrest.
The Working Monarch
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Rising early in the morning,
We proceed to light the fire,
Then our Majesty adorning
In its work-a-day attire,
We embark without delay
On the duties of the day.
VI: To The Same
© Benjamin Jonson
Kisse mee, Sweet: The wary lover
Can your favours keepe, and cover,
Huddersfield - The Second Poetry Capital Of England
© Barry Tebb
It brings to mind Swift leaving a fortune to Dublin
Beauty
© John Masefield
I have seen dawn and sunset on moors and windy hills
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain:
I have seen the lady April bringing the daffodils,
Bringing the springing grass and the soft warm April rain.
One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue Part IV
© Madison Julius Cawein
_They who die young are blest.--
Should we not envy such?
They are Earth's happiest,
God-loved and favored much!--
They who die young are blest._
A Country Pathway
© James Whitcomb Riley
I come upon it suddenly, alone--
A little pathway winding in the weeds
That fringe the roadside; and with dreams my own,
I wander as it leads.
Vers De Société
© Philip Larkin
My wife and I have asked a crowd of craps
To come and waste their time and ours: perhaps
You'd care to join us? In a pig's arse, friend.
Day comes to an end.
The gas fire breathes, the trees are darkly swayed.
And so Dear Warlock-Williams: I'm afraid-
Paradise Regain'd : Book II.
© John Milton
Meanwhile the new-baptized, who yet remained
At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen