War poems
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At The Close Of The Canvass
© Ambrose Bierce
'Twas a Venerable Person, whom I met one Sunday morning,
All appareled as a prophet of a melancholy sect;
And in a Jeremiad of objurgatory warning
He lifted up his jodel to the following effect:
The Picture on the Wall
© Henry Clay Work
Among the brave and loyal,
How many lov'd ones fall!
Whose friends bereft,
Have only left, only left
A picture on the wall.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 3. Interlude VI.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
The Student praised the good old times,
And liked the canter of the rhymes,
That had a hoofbeat in their sound;
But longed some further word to hear
Of the old chronicler Ben Meir,
And where his volume might he found.
Pharsalia - Book IV: Caesar In Spain. War In The Adriatic Sea. Death Of Curio.
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Should mix with ours, the vanquished. Destiny
Has run for us its course: one boon I beg;
Bid not the conquered conquer in thy train."
The pilgrimage to Mecca
© George Canning
What holy rites Mohammed's laws ordain,
What various duties bind his faithful train,-
The Princes' Quest - Part the Second
© William Watson
A fearful and a lovely thing is Sleep,
And mighty store of secrets hath in keep;
Summer Afternoon (Bodiam Castle, Sussex)
© Edith Wharton
And this was thine: to lose thyself in me,
Relive in my renewal, and become
The light of other lives, a quenchless torch
Passed on from hand to hand, till men are dust
And the last garland withers from my shrine.
The Singing Of The Magnificat
© Edith Nesbit
IN midst of wide green pasture-lands, cut through
By lines of alders bordering deep-banked streams,
Where bulrushes and yellow iris grew,
And rest and peace, and all the flowers of dreams,
The Abbey stood--so still, it seemed a part
Of the marsh-country's almost pulseless heart.
A Lament For The Princes Of Tyrone And Tyrconnel
© James Clarence Mangan
O WOMAN of the piercing wail,
Who mournest oer yon mound of clay
Elegy XXVI. Describing the Sorrow of An Ingeneous Mind
© William Shenstone
Why mourns my friend? why weeps his downcast eye,
That eye where mirth, where fancy, used to shine?
Thy cheerful meads reprove that swelling sigh;
Spring ne'er enamell'd fairer meads than thine.
Love and Honor
© William Shenstone
Sed neque Medorum silvae, ditissima terra
Nec pulcher Ganges, atque auro turbidus Haemus,
The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 17
© William Langland
"I am Spes, a spie,' quod he, "and spire after a knyght
That took me a maundement upon the mount of Synay
Tuscany
© Victoria Mary Sackville-West
Cisterns and stones; the fig-tree in the wall
Casts down her shadow, ashen as her boughs,
Ode To Peace
© James Beattie
I. 1.
Peace, heaven-descended maid! whose powerful voice
From ancient darkness call'd the morn;
And hush'd of jarring elements the noise,
Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book XI - Sraddha - (Funeral Rites)
© Romesh Chunder Dutt
From their royal brow and bosom gem and jewel cast aside,
Loose their robes and loose their tresses, quenched their haughty queenly
pride!
The Drums of Battersea
© Henry Lawson
They cant hear in West o London, where the worst dine with the best
Deaf to all save lies and laughter, they cant hear in London West
