War poems

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Hence, All You Vain Delights from the Nice Valour

© John Fletcher

Hence, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly:
There's nought in this life sweet,

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Melancholy

© John Fletcher

HENCE, all you vain delights,
As short as are the nights
Wherein you spend your folly!
There 's naught in this life sweet,

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Variations On A Theme By William Carlos Williams

© Kenneth Koch

1
I chopped down the house that you had been saving to live in next summer.
I am sorry, but it was morning, and I had nothing to do
and its wooden beams were so inviting.

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Living and a Dead Faith

© William Cowper

The Lord receives his highest praise
From humble minds and hearts sincere;
While all the loud professor says
Offends the righteous Judge's ear.

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Seeking the Beloved

© William Cowper

To those who love the Lord I speak;
Is my Beloved near?
The Bridegroom of my soul I seek,
Oh! when will He appear?

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I Will Praise the Lord at All Times

© William Cowper

Winter has a joy for me,
While the Saviour's charms I read,
Lowly, meek, from blemish free,
In the snowdrop's pensive head.

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On Receipt Of My Mother's Picture

© William Cowper

Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thine--thy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;

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The Task: Book II, The Time-Piece (excerpts)

© William Cowper

England, with all thy faults, I love thee still--
My country! and, while yet a nook is left
Where English minds and manners may be found,
Shall be constrain'd to love thee. Though thy clime

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The Task: Book I, The Sofa (excerpts)

© William Cowper

Thou know'st my praise of nature most sincere,
And that my raptures are not conjur'd up
To serve occasions of poetic pomp,
But genuine, and art partner of them all.

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The Castaway

© William Cowper

Obscurest night involv'd the sky,
Th' Atlantic billows roar'd,
When such a destin'd wretch as I,
Wash'd headlong from on board,
Of friends, of hope, of all bereft,
His floating home for ever left.

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The Human Face

© Paul Eluard

Of all the springtimes of the world
This one is the ugliest
Of all of my ways of being
To be trusting is the best

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The Deaf and Blind

© Paul Eluard

Do we reach the sea with clocks
In our pockets, with the noise of the sea
In the sea, or are we the carriers
Of a purer and more silent water?

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Sonnet XI

© Edmund Spenser

DAyly when I do seeke and sew for peace,
And hostages doe offer for my truth:
she cruell warriour doth her selfe addresse,
to battell, and the weary war renew'th.

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Sonnet XXXI

© Edmund Spenser

Ah why hath nature to so hard a hart,
giuen so goodly giftes of beauties grace?
whose pryde depraues each other better part,
and all those pretious ornaments deface.

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Poem 5

© Edmund Spenser

WAke now my loue, awake; for it is time,
The Rosy Morne long since left Tithones bed,
All ready to her siluer coche to clyme,
And Phoebus gins to shew his glorious hed.

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Sonnet XIX

© Edmund Spenser

THe merry Cuckow, messenger of Spring,
His trompet shrill hath thrise already sounded:
that warnes al louers wayt vpon their king,
who now is comming forth with girland crouned.

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Sonnet IIII

© Edmund Spenser

NEw yeare forth looking out of Ianus gate,
Doth seeme to promise hope of new delight:
and bidding th'old Adieu, his passed date
bids all old thoughts to die in dumpish spright.

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Sonnet LII

© Edmund Spenser

SO oft as homeward I from her depart,
I goe lyke one that hauing lost the field:
is prisoner led away with heauy hart,
despoyld of warlike armes and knowen shield.

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Sonnet LVII

© Edmund Spenser

SWeet warriour when shall I haue peace with you?
High time it is, this warre now ended were:
which I no lenger can endure to sue,
ne your incessant battry more to beare:

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Sonnet XLIIII

© Edmund Spenser

When those renoumed noble Peres of Greece,
thrugh stubborn pride amongst the[m]selues did iar
forgetfull of the famous golden fleece,
then Orpheus with his harp theyr strife did bar.