War poems
/ page 432 of 504 /
Miscellanies
© George Borrow
This is Denmarks holyday;
Dance, ye maidens!
Sing, ye men!
Tune, ye harpers!
Blush, ye heroes!
This is Denmarks holyday.
Where's the Poker?
© Christopher Smart
The poker lost, poor Susan storm'd,
And all the rites of rage perform'd;
As scolding, crying, swearing, sweating,
Abusing, fidgetting, and fretting.
Spring Thunder
© Mark van Doren
Listen, The wind is still,
And far away in the night --
See! The uplands fill
With a running light.
Morning Worship
© Mark van Doren
I wake and hearing it raining.
Were I dead, what would I give
Lazily to lie here,
Like this, and live?
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto I
© Richard Savage
The solar fires now faint and wat'ry burn,
Just where with ice Aquarius frets his urn!
If thaw'd, forth issue, from its mouth severe,
Raw clouds, that sadden all th' inverted year.
Hudibras: Part 2 - Canto III
© Samuel Butler
Doubtless the pleasure is as great
Of being cheated as to cheat;
As lookers-on feel most delight,
That least perceive a jugler's slight;
And still the less they understand,
The more th' admire his slight of hand.
The Waggoner - Canto Fourth
© William Wordsworth
THUS they, with freaks of proud delight,
Beguile the remnant of the night;
And many a snatch of jovial song
Regales them as they wind along;
Arabian Nights
© Nimah Nawwab
When the call of the hudud,
Echoes through the palm fronds
Carrying in their mists,
Visions, memories:
Gentleness Stirred
© Nimah Nawwab
Hey, you there! thunders across the parking lot
You with the black boots the tone is raised
Oh, oh, reluctantly she turns,
Fear stirs,
Flinching,
Watches wrath unleashed.
Objector
© William Stafford
I bow and cross my fork and spoon: somewhere
other citizens more fearfully bow
in a place terrorized by their kind of oppressive state.
Our signs both mean, "You hostages over there
will never be slaughtered by my act." Our vows
cross: never to kill and call it fate.
Europe, MDCCCCI To Napoleon
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Soars still thy spirit, Child of Fire?
Dost hear the camps of Europe hum?
On eagle wings dost hover nigher
At the far rolling of the drum?
To see the harvest thou hast sown
Smilest thou now, Napoleon?
Traveling Through The Dark
© William Stafford
Traveling through the dark I found a deer
dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.
It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:
that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.
The Yukon
© Joaquin Miller
THE moon resumed all heaven now,
She shepherded the stars below
Along her wide, white steeps of snow,
Nor stooped nor rested, where or how.
From The Woolworth Tower
© Sara Teasdale
Vivid with love, eager for greater beauty
Out of the night we come
Into the corridor, brilliant and warm.
A metal door slides open,
May 8
© David Lehman
700 francs will get you $109.91
on this muggy May afternoon
which is good to know since
I just found 700 francs in my wallet
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 04
© William Langland
" Cesseth!' seide the Kyng, " I suffre yow no lenger.
Ye shul saughtne, forsothe, and serve me bothe.
The Little Knight In Green
© Katharine Lee Bates
WHAT fragrant-footed comer
Is stepping oer my head?
The Left Bank
© David Lehman
Don't walk away, Renee,
I'm just getting warmed up
your body is like a river
and I'm going to swim across
Ninth Inning
© David Lehman
He woke up in New York City on Valentine's Day,
Speeding. The body in the booth next to his was still warm,
Was gone. He had bought her a sweater, a box of chocolate
Said her life wasn't working he looked stricken she said
