War poems

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Journey Into The Interior

© Theodore Roethke

In the long journey out of the self,
There are many detours, washed-out interrupted raw places
Where the shale slides dangerously
And the back wheels hang almost over the edge

From The Last Island: To Lady Elisabeth Verreet

© Regina Derieva

Oval mirror of the sea,
age-warped isle waved and cloudy,
each angle crystalline and salty.
my lens into reality.

The Chronicle Of The Drum

© William Makepeace Thackeray

"'Though Europe against me was arm'd,
Your chiefs and my people are true;
I still might have struggled with fortune,
And baffled all Europe with you.

The Grasshopper

© Richard Lovelace

O thou that swing'st upon the waving ear
Of some well-filled oaten beard,
Drunk ev'ry night with a delicious tear
Dropped thee from heav'n, where now th' art reared,

To Lucasta, Going To The Wars

© Richard Lovelace

Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,
That from the nunnery
Of thy chaste breasts, and quiet mind,
To war and arms I fly.

The Song of the Borderguard

© Robert Duncan

The man with his lion under the shed of wars
sheds his belief as if he shed tears.
The sound of words waits -
a barbarian host at the borderline of sense.

The Ships Are Made Ready In Silence

© William Stanley Merwin

Moored to the same ring:
The hour, the darkness and I,
Our compasses hooded like falcons.

The Source

© William Stanley Merwin

There in the fringe of trees between
the upper field and the edge of the one
below it that runs above the valley
one time I heard in the early

Phoebus with Admetus

© George Meredith

NOW the North wind ceases,
The warm South-west awakes;
Swift fly the fleeces,
Thick the blossom-flakes.

Modern Love XXX: What Are We First

© George Meredith

What are we first? First, animals; and next
Intelligences at a leap; on whom
Pale lies the distant shadow of the tomb,
And all that draweth on the tomb for text.

Modern Love XVII: At Dinner She Is Hostess

© George Meredith

At dinner, she is hostess, I am host.
Went the feast ever cheerfuller? She keeps
The Topic over intellectual deeps
In buoyancy afloat. They see no ghost.

He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.

Modern Love IV: All Other Joys of Life

© George Meredith

All other joys of life he strove to warm,
And magnify, and catch them to his lip:
But they had suffered shipwreck with the ship,
And gazed upon him sallow from the storm.

Meditation under Stars

© George Meredith

What links are ours with orbs that are
So resolutely far:
The solitary asks, and they
Give radiance as from a shield:

Juggling Jerry

Pitch here the tent, while the old horse grazes:
By the old hedge-side we'll halt a stage.
It's nigh my last above the daisies:
My next leaf'll be man's blank page.

In the Holy Nativity of our Lord

CHORUS
Come we shepherds whose blest sight
Hath met love's noon in nature's night;
Come lift we up our loftier song
And wake the sun that lies too long.

Verses from the Shepherds' Hymn

WE saw Thee in Thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw Thine eyes break from the East,
And chase the trembling shades away:
We saw Thee, and we blest the sight,
We saw Thee by Thine own sweet light.