War poems
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The Borough. Letter VII: Professions--Physic
© George Crabbe
power;"
"I fear to die;"--"Let not your spirits sink,
You're always safe, while you believe and drink."
How strange to add, in this nefarious trade,
That men of parts are dupes by dunces made:
That creatures, nature meant should clean our
Faringdon Hill. Book I
© Henry James Pye
What various objects scatter'd round us lie,
And charm on every side the curious eye!
Amidst such ample stores, how shall the Muse
Know where to turn her sight, and which to choose?
Last Words to Miriam
© David Herbert Lawrence
Yours is the shame and sorrow,
But the disgrace is mine;
Your love was dark and thorough,
Mine was the love of the sun for a flower
He creates with his shine.
A Sonnet dedicated to Sir George Gipps
© Charles Harpur
My country! I am sore at heart for thee!
An in mine ear, like a storm-heralding breeze,
Dreams Old
© David Herbert Lawrence
I have opened the window to warm my hands on the sill
Where the sunlight soaks in the stone: the afternoon
Is full of dreams, my love, the boys are all still
In a wistful dream of Lorna Doone.
Mating
© David Herbert Lawrence
Round clouds roll in the arms of the wind,
The round earth rolls in a clasp of blue sky,
And see, where the budding hazels are thinned,
The wild anemones lie
In undulating shivers beneath the wind.
Study
© David Herbert Lawrence
Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird
Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel,
Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads back,
Stirred by an impetuous wind. Some waysll
All be sweet with white and blue violet.
(Hush now, hush. Where am I?Biuret)
To Lesbia
© George Gordon Byron
Lesbia! since far from you I've ranged,
Our souls with fond affection glow not;
You say 'tis I, not you, have changed,
I'd tell you why,--but yet I know not.
Craving for Spring
© David Herbert Lawrence
I trample on the snowdrops, it gives me pleasure to tread down the jonquils,
to destroy the chill Lent lilies;
for I am sick of them, their faint-bloodedness,
slow-blooded, icy-fleshed, portentous.
Restlessness
© David Herbert Lawrence
At the open door of the room I stand and look at the night,
Hold my hand to catch the raindrops, that slant into sight,
Arriving grey from the darkness above suddenly into the light of the room.
I will escape from the hollow room, the box of light,
And be out in the bewildering darkness, which is always fecund, which might
Mate my hungry soul with a germ of its womb.
The Revolutionary
© David Herbert Lawrence
Look at them standing there in authority
The pale-faces,
As if it could have any effect any more.
Kooroora
© Henry Kendall
The gums in the gully stand gloomy and stark,
A torrent beneath them is leaping,
The Wild Common
© David Herbert Lawrence
The quick sparks on the gorse bushes are leaping,
Little jets of sunlight-texture imitating flame;
Above them, exultant, the peewits are sweeping:
They are lords of the desolate wastes of sadness their screamings proclaim.
The Tree
© Jones Very
I love thee when thy swelling buds appear
And one by one their tender leaves unfold,
The Mother's Question
© Edgar Albert Guest
When I was a boy, and it chanced to rain,
Mother would always watch for me;
The Pine Woods Of Grijo
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Our voices break on a stillness bright and strange
Of early morning. Pines upon either hand
People the sunshine: deep as eye can range,
Their lofty throngs in a darkling order stand.
Cruelty and Love
© David Herbert Lawrence
What large, dark hands are those at the window
Lifted, grasping in the yellow light
Which makes its way through the curtain web
At my heart to-night?
Tortoise Family Connections
© David Herbert Lawrence
On he goes, the little one,
Bud of the universe,
Pediment of life.
Setting off somewhere, apparently.
Whither away, brisk egg?
