War poems
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An Ode - Presented To The King, On His Majesty's Arrival In Holland, After The Queen's Death
© Matthew Prior
At Mary's tomb (sad sacred place!)
The Virtues shall their vigils keep,
And every Muse and every Grace
In solemn state shall ever weep.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
Song Of The Gray Stallion
© Henry Herbert Knibbs
My dam was a mustang white and proud,
My sire was as black as a thunder cloud;
After Death
© Edith Nesbit
IF we must part, this parting is the best:
How would you bear to lay
Your head on some warm pillow far away--
Your head, so used to lying on my breast?
The Song Of Hiawatha I: The Peace-Pipe
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
On the Mountains of the Prairie,
On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry,
King Seuen On The Occasion Of A Great Drought
© Confucius
Grand shone the Milky Way on high,
With brilliant span athwart the sky,
The Statue Of The Dying Gladiator
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Oh! fire of soul! by servitude disgrac'd,
Perverted courage! energy debas'd!
Lost Rome! thy slave, expiring in the dust,
Tow'rs far above Patrician rank, august!
While that proud rank, insatiate, could survey
Pageants that stain'd with blood each festal day!
The Song Of Hiawatha VII: Hiawatha's Sailing
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree!
Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree!
To Delaware
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THRICE welcome to thy sisters of the East,
To the strong tillers of a rugged home,
With spray-wet locks to Northern winds released,
And hardy feet o'erswept by ocean's foam;
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - January
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
The Last Word
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Before the April night was late
A rider came to the castle gate;
A rider breathing human breath,
But the words he spoke were the words of Death.
And Here The Hermit Sat
© William Ellery Channing
And here the hermit sat, and told his beads,
And stroked his flowing locks, red as the fire,
The Story Of Glaucus The Thessalian
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Up to the deep founts of the tenderest eyes
That e'er have shone, I think, since in some dell
Of Argos and enchanted Thessaly,
The poet, from whose heart-lit brain it came,
Murmured this record unto her he loved?
The Fall Of The Leaf
© Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Earnest and sad the solemn tale
That the sighing winds give back,
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
The Brus Book VII
© John Barbour
[The king goes to a house, where the goodwife gives him her two sons;
he meets his companions and they take an enemy force in a
village by surprise]
Good-Night In War-Time
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
(To Alexander Smith)
The stars we saw arise are high above,
Five Prayers
© Blanche Edith Baughan
TO taste
Wild wine of the mountain-spring, fresh, living, strong,
A Garden Idyl
© George Meredith
Next day was told what deeds of night
Were done; the web had vanished quite;
With it the strange opposing pair;
And listless waved on vacant air,
For her adieu to heart's content,
A solitary filament.
