War poems
/ page 413 of 504 /To Mr. I. P.
© John Donne
BLEST are your north parts, for all this long time
My sun is with you ; cold and dark's our clime ;
From: Tecumseh
© Charles Mair
There was a time on this fair continent
When all things throve in spacious peacefulness.
The prosperous forests unmolested stood,
For where the stalwart oak grew there it lived
Long ages, and then died among its kind.
Sonnet XXXVI. Life And Death. 8.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
NOT for a rapture unalloyed I ask.
Not for a recompense for all I miss.
A banquet of the gods in heavenly bliss,
A realm in whose warm sunshine I may bask,
Ben apfelgarten
© Eugene Field
There was a certain gentleman, Ben Apfelgarten called,
Who lived way off in Germany a many years ago,
And he was very fortunate in being very bald
And so was very happy he was so.
Ballad of women i love
© Eugene Field
Prudence Mears hath an old blue plate
Hid away in an oaken chest,
And a Franklin platter of ancient date
Beareth Amandy Baker's crest;
On A Ferry Boat
© Richard Francis Burton
THE RIVER widens to a pathless sea
Beneath the rain and mist and sullen skies.
Paradise Lost : Book XI.
© John Milton
Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood
Praying; for from the mercy-seat above
A proper trewe idyll of camelot
© Eugene Field
Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awaye
Ye poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a merrie May,
Ye shraddy boscage of ye woods ben full of birds that syng
Right merrilie a madrigal unto ye waking spring,
Ye whiles that when ye face of earth ben washed and wiped ycleane
Her peeping posies blink and stare like they had ben her een;
Sleeping With Boa
© May Swenson
I show her how to put her arms around me,
but shes much too small.
Whats worse, she doesnt understand.
And
although she lies beside me, sticking
out her tongue, its herself she licks.
Writing To Onegin
© Ruth Padel
(After Pushkin)
Look at the bare wood hand-waxed floor and long
White dressing-gown, the good child's writing-desk
And passionate cold feet
To The Small Celandine
© William Wordsworth
PANSIES, lilies, kingcups, daisies,
Let them live upon their praises;
Long as there's a sun that sets,
Primroses will have their glory;
The Coming Of Arthur
© Alfred Tennyson
Leodogran, the King of Cameliard,
Had one fair daughter, and none other child;
And she was the fairest of all flesh on earth,
Guinevere, and in her his one delight.
M'Fingal - Canto I
© John Trumbull
When Yankies, skill'd in martial rule,
First put the British troops to school;
Drinking Song, On the Excellence of Burgundy Wine
© Hilaire Belloc
My jolly fat host with your face all a-grin,
Come, open the door to us, let us come in.
A score of stout fellows who think it no sin
If they toast till they're hoarse, and drink till they spin,
Boris Godunov
© Alexander Pushkin
Boyars, The People, Inspectors, Officers, Attendants, Guests,
a Boy in attendance on Prince Shuisky, a Catholic Priest, a
Polish Noble, a Poet, an Idiot, a Beggar, Gentlemen, Peasants,
Guards, Russian, Polish, and German Soldiers, a Russian
Prisoner of War, Boys, an old Woman, Ladies, Serving-women.
Balin and Balan
© Alfred Tennyson
Then Balan added to their Order lived
A wealthier life than heretofore with these
And Balin, till their embassage returned.
Henry King
© Hilaire Belloc
The Chief Defect of Henry King
Was chewing little bits of String.
At last he swallowed some which tied
Itself in ugly Knots inside.
Heroic Poem in Praise of Wine
© Hilaire Belloc
But since I would not, since I could not stay,
Let me remember even in this my day
How, when the ephemeral vision's lure is past
All, all, must face their Passion at the last
Worth Forest
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Come, Prudence, you have done enough to--day--
The worst is over, and some hours of play
We both have earned, even more than rest, from toil;
Our minds need laughter, as a spent lamp oil,