Courage poems
/ page 68 of 77 /
The Choir And Music Of Solitude And Silence
© Delmore Schwartz
Love is the most difficult and dangerous form of courage.
Courage is the most desperate, admirable and noble kind of
love.
The Chord
© Erin Moure
Courageous lair "might prevail"
Waking up to her your "yellow coal"Steals a its wayharm's imbrogliatic murmur
to concatenatehas been "said"
a mortal habitation or cut in airthat air leaks throughhere too***Tricked again out of
The Chronicle Of The Drum
© William Makepeace Thackeray
"'Though Europe against me was arm'd,
Your chiefs and my people are true;
I still might have struggled with fortune,
And baffled all Europe with you.
Power of Love
© Anne Brontë
Often, in my wild impatience,
I have lost my trust in Heaven,
And my soul has tossed and struggled,
Like a vessel tempest-driven;
Last Lines
© Anne Brontë
A dreadful darkness closes in
On my bewildered mind;
O let me suffer and not sin,
Be tortured yet resigned.
Strange Meeting
© Wilfred Owen
It seemed that out of the battle I escaped
Down some profound dull tunnel, long since scooped
Scars on Paper
© Marilyn Hacker
An unwrapped icon, too potent to touch,
she freed my breasts from the camp Empire dress.
Now one of them's the shadow of a breast
with a lost object's half-life, with as much
Iceland First Seen
© William Morris
Lo from our loitering ship a new land at last to be seen;
Toothed rocks down the side of the firth on the east guard a weary wide lea,
And black slope the hillsides above, striped adown with their desolate green:
And a peak rises up on the west from the meeting of cloud and of sea,
The White Cliffs
© Alice Duer Miller
Yet I have loathed those voices when the sense
Of what they said seemed to me insolence,
As if the dominance of the whole nation
Lay in that clear correct enunciation.
Nadir
© Elinor Wylie
Let us at least pretend--it may be true--
That we can close our lips on poisonous
Dark wine diluted by the Stygean wave;
And let me dream sublimity in you,
And courage, liberal for the two of us:
Let us at least pretend we can be brave.
He "Digesteth Harde Yron"
© Marianne Clarke Moore
is not more suspicious.How
could he, prized for plumes and eggs and young
used even as a riding-beast, respect men
hiding actor-like in ostrich skins, with the right hand
making the neck move as if alive
and from a bag the left hand strewing grain, that ostriches
Night Hymns on Lake Nipigon
© Duncan Campbell Scott
Here in the midnight, where the dark mainland and island
Shadows mingle in shadow deeper, profounder,
Sing we the hymns of the churches, while the dead water
Whispers before us.
The Wreck of the Steamer Mohegan
© William Topaz McGonagall
Good people of high and low degree,
I pray ye all to list to me,
And I'll relate a terrible tale of the sea
Concerning the unfortunate steamer, Mohegan,
That against the Manacles Rocks, ran.
The Wreck of the Barque Wm. Paterson of Liverpool
© William Topaz McGonagall
Ye landsmen all attend my verse, and I'll tell to ye a tale
Concerning the barque "Wm. Paterson" that was lost in a tempestuous gale;
She was on a voyage from Bangkok to the Clyde with a cargo of Teakwood,
And the crew numbered Fifteen in all of seamen firm and good.
The Sprig of Moss
© William Topaz McGonagall
There lived in Munich a poor, weakly youth,
But for the exact date, I cannot vouch for the truth,
And of seven of a family he was the elder,
Who was named, by his parents, Alois Senefelder.
The Men Who Come Behind
© Henry Lawson
So it is, and so it might have been, my friend, with me and you
When a friend of both and neither interferes between the two;
They will fight like fiends, forgetting in their passion mad and blind,
That the row is mostly started by the folk who come behind.
The Rebel Surprise Near Tamai
© William Topaz McGonagall
'Twas on the 22nd of March, in the year 1885,
That the Arabs rushed like a mountain torrent in full drive,
And quickly attacked General M'Neill's transport-zereba,
But in a short time they were forced to withdraw.
The Last Berkshire Eleven
© William Topaz McGonagall
'Twas at the disastrous battle of Maiwand, in Afghanistan,
Where the Berkshires were massacred to the last man;
On the morning of July the 27th, in the year eighteen eighty,
Which I'm sorry to relate was a pitiful sight to see.
The Horrors of Majuba
© William Topaz McGonagall
'Twas after the great Majuba fight:
And the next morning, at daylight,
Captain Macbean's men were ordered to headquarters camp,
So immediately Captain Macbean and his men set out on tramp.
