War poems

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A Memorial

© John Greenleaf Whittier

Oh, thicker, deeper, darker growing,
The solemn vista to the tomb
Must know henceforth another shadow,
And give another cypress room.

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An Athenian Reverie

© Archibald Lampman

How the returning days, one after one,

Came ever in their rhythmic round, unchanged,

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A Prophecy

© Walter Savage Landor

PROUD word you never spoke, but you will speak
  Four not exempt from pride some future day.
Resting on one white hand a warm wet cheek,
  Over my open volume you will say,
  “This man loved me!” then rise and trip away.  

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Effigy Of A Nun

© Sara Teasdale

Infinite gentleness, infinite irony
Are in this face with fast-sealed eyes,
And round this mouth that learned in loneliness
How useless their wisdom is to the wise.

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Hellenistics

© Robinson Jeffers

I look at the Greek-derived design that nourished my infancy
this Wedgwood copy of the Portland vase:
Someone had given it to my father my eyes at five years old
used to devour it by the hour.

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Margaret Love Peacock, for her tombstone, 1826

© Thomas Love Peacock

Long night succeeds thy little day;
  Oh blighted blossom! can it be,
That this grey stone, and grassy clay,
  Have clos'd our anxious care of thee?

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The Cup Of Comus

© Madison Julius Cawein

PROEM
THE Nights of song and story,
With breath of frost and rain,
Whose locks are wild and hoary,

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To The Lacedemonians

© Allen Tate

  Go you tell them
That we their servants, well-trained, gray-coated
And haired (both foot and horse) or in
The grave, them obey . . . obey them,
What commands?

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Nathalocus

© James Clerk Maxwell

I.

Bleak was the pathway and barren the mountain,

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The Young Author

© Samuel Johnson

When first the peasant, long inclined to roam,

Forsakes his rural sports and peaceful home,

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Overcast

© Charles Baudelaire

Are they blue, gray or green? Mysterious eyes
(as if in fact you were looking through a mist)
in alternation tender, dreamy, grim
to match the shiftless pallor of the sky.

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In a City Garden

© Trumbull Stickney

Yet was this willow here.
It hung as now its olive skeins aloft
Into the sky, then blue and clear,-
And yonder pair of poplar trees

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Monody On The Death Of Dr. Warton

© William Lisle Bowles

Oh! I should ill thy generous cares requite

  Thou who didst first inspire my timid Muse,

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The Prophetic Bard's Oration: From A Faun's Holiday

© Robert Nichols

For Pan, the Unknown God, rules all.
He shall outlive the funeral,
Change, and decay, of many Gods,
Until he, too, lets fall his rods
Of viewless power upon that minute
When Universe cowers at Infinite!

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Idyll V. The Battle of the Bards

© Theocritus


  COMETAS.
  Goats, from a shepherd who stands here, from Lacon, keep away:
  Sibyrtas owns him; and he stole my goatskin yesterday.

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The Last Song Of Camoens

© William Lisle Bowles

The morning shone on Tagus' rocky side,

  And airs of summer swelled the yellow tide,

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A Family Record

© Oliver Wendell Holmes

WOODSTOCK, CONN., JULY 4, 1877

NOT to myself this breath of vesper song,

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April

© Virna Sheard

April! April! April!

  With a mist of green on the trees--

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Love Sonnet XXIX

© Zora Bernice May Cross

O Love…Love…Love…Dearer than God to me.
Earth of the earth are we and light of light.
God-born, God-breathing, all our scented souls
In Death will glow, gladdening eternity.
So give me love…all love…this perfect night
As round our naked limbs its full fire rolls.

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Ninth Sunday After Trinity

© John Keble

In troublous days of anguish and rebuke,
While sadly round them Israel's children look,
  And their eyes fail for waiting on their Lord:
While underneath each awful arch of green,
On every mountain-top, God's chosen scene,
  Of pure heart-worship, Baal is adored: