War poems
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A Death-Scene
© Emily Jane Brontë
"O day! he cannot die
When thou so fair art shining!
O Sun, in such a glorious sky,
So tranquilly declining;
Nonpareil
© Matthew Prior
Let others from the Town retire,
And in the fields seek new delight;
My Phillis does such joys inspire,
No other objects please my sight.
The Secret Draught of Wine
© Shams al-Din Hafiz
Like Hafiz, drain the goblet cheerfully
While minstrels touch the lute and sweetly sing,
For all that makes thy heart rejoice in thee
Hangs of Life's single, slender, silken string.
A Midsummer Noon in the Australian Forest
© Charles Harpur
Not a bird disturbs the air!
There is quiet everywhere;
Over plains and over woods
What a mighty stillness broods.
The Song Of Hiawatha VI: Hiawatha's Friends
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Two good friends had Hiawatha,
Singled out from all the others,
At One Again
© Jean Ingelow
Two angry men-in heat they sever,
And one goes home by a harvest field:-
"Hope's nought," quoth he, "and vain endeavor;
I said and say it, I will not yield!
Independence
© Charles Churchill
Happy the bard (though few such bards we find)
Who, 'bove controlment, dares to speak his mind;
Philip Massinger: V
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
CLOUDS here and there arisen an hour past noon
Chequered our English heaven with lengthening bars
Near Perigord
© Ezra Pound
I
You'd have men's hearts up from the dust
And tell their secrets, Messire Cino,
Rigkt enough? Then read between the lines of Uc St. Circ,
Solve me the riddle, for you know the tale.
Merlin's Isle
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
O, I went down to Merlin's Isle,
And when that I had found it,
Tardy Spring
© George Meredith
Now the North wind ceases,
The warm South-west awakes;
Swift fly the fleeces,
Thick the blossom-flakes.
With Stopwatch In Hand
© Karl Kraus
Berlin, 22 September 1916.
On 17 September one of our
submarines sank a fully
loaded enemy troop transport
in the Mediterranean. The
ship went down in 43 seconds.
In Early Spring
© Alice Meynell
O Spring, I know thee! Seek for sweet surprise
In the young children's eyes.
The Maid Of Ocram, Or, Lord Gregory
© John Clare
When you did change your ring for mine
My yielding heart to win,
Though mine was of the beaten gold
Yours but of burnished tin,
Though mine was all true love without,
Yours but false love within?
