War poems
/ page 98 of 504 /Extracts From Leon. An Unfinished Poem
© Joseph Rodman Drake
It is an eve that drops a heavenly balm,
To lull the feelings to a sober calm,
To bid wild passion's fiery flush depart;
And smooth the troubled waters of the heart;
To give a tranquil fixedness to grief,
A cherished gloom, that wishes not relief.
Freedom In Brazil
© John Greenleaf Whittier
WITH clearer light, Cross of the South, shine forth
In blue Brazilian skies;
And thou, O river, cleaving half the earth
From sunset to sunrise,
Gray-Eyed King
© Anna Akhmatova
The Grey-Eyed King
Hail! Hail to thee, o, immovable pain!
The young grey-eyed king had been yesterday slain.
Bless The Dear Old Verdant Land
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Bless the dear old verdant land!
Brother, wert thou born of it?
Three Dead Friends
© James Whitcomb Riley
Always suddenly they are gone--
The friends we trusted and held secure--
The Art Of War. Book IV.
© Henry James Pye
Marseilles secur'd by many a strengthen'd tower
Mock'd dauntless Cæsar and his veteran power;
Wearied at length, but sure of fortune's aid,
He bid the sea their floating works invade.
Thus check'd the siege long, bloody, and severe,
Of Rome's experienced chiefs the bold career.
The Outlaw
© William Henry Ogilvie
Our realm was the fenceless ranges. We fed in the bluegrass swamps.
The green of the branching wilga was the roof of our noonday camps.
We drank at the pools in the lignum, where die mist and moonlight meet,
Stealing like wraiths through the darkness with the dew on our shoeless feet.
A Castaway
© Augusta Davies Webster
So long since:
and now it seems a jest to talk of me
as if I could be one with her, of me
who am…… me.
The Song Of Hiawatha XIV: Picture-Writing
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
In those days said Hiawatha,
"Lo! how all things fade and perish!
The Welcome
© Thomas Osborne Davis
Come in the evening, or come in the morning;
Come when you re lookd for, or come without warning:
The Poet's Metamorphosis
© Eugene Field
Maecenas, I propose to fly
To realms beyond these human portals;
No common things shall be my wings,
But such as sprout upon immortals.
The Hot Season
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
But soon the people could not bear
The slightest hint of fire;
Allusions to caloric drew
A flood of savage ire;
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto IX.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
IV Fool and Wise
Endow the fool with sun and moon,
Being his, he holds them mean and low;
But to the wise a little boon
Is great, because the giver's so.
January Morning
© William Carlos Williams
I have discovered that most of
the beauties of travel are due to
the strange hours we keep to see them:
Recreation
© Jane Taylor
At last the tea came up, and so,
With that, our tongues began to go.
Now, in that house, you're sure of knowing
The smallest scrap of news that's going ;
We find it there the wisest way
To take some care of what we say.
Alice Fell, Or Poverty
© William Wordsworth
THE post-boy drove with fierce career,
For threatening clouds the moon had drowned;
When, as we hurried on, my ear
Was smitten with a startling sound.
Do You Think That I Do Not Know?
© Henry Lawson
They say that I never have written of love,
As a writer of songs should do;
Poem
© Aldous Huxley
Books and a coloured skein of thoughts were mine;
And magic words lay ripening in my soul
Till their much-whispered music turned a wine
Whose subtlest power was all in my control.