Peace poems

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Christmas Bells

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

The Arsenal At Springfield

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

This is the Arsenal. From floor to ceiling,
Like a huge organ, rise the burnished arms;
But front their silent pipes no anthem pealing
Startles the villages with strange alarms.

This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks,
Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the twilight,
Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic,
Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms.
Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighboring ocean
Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.

The Good Part, That Shall Not Be Taken Away

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

She dwells by Great Kenhawa's side,
In valleys green and cool;
And all her hope and all her pride
Are in the village school.

Dante

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tuscan, that wanderest through the realms of gloom,
With thoughtful pace, and sad, majestic eyes,
Stern thoughts and awful from thy soul arise,
Like Farinata from his fiery tomb.

Blind Bartimeus

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Blind Bartimeus at the gates
Of Jericho in darkness waits;
He hears the crowd;--he hears a breath
Say, "It is Christ of Nazareth!"
And calls, in tones of agony,

Hymn to the Night

© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I heard the trailing garments of the Night
Sweep through her marble halls!
I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light
From the celestial walls!

Peaceful Ground

© Robert M. Hensel

Cool Morning spit on bladed grass.
A Thousand silky fingers tickling toes.
The strong scent of natures freshly cut hair.
Mans spiritual stamping groung toward inner
peace.

Peace Of Mind

© Robert M. Hensel

Carry me out the ocean, where
my drifting thoughts flow free.
Guide them to a far distant land,
that only the mind can see.

Author's Prologue

© Dylan Thomas

This day winding down now
At God speeded summer's end
In the torrent salmon sun,
In my seashaken house

Poem On His Birthday

© Dylan Thomas

In the mustardseed sun,
By full tilt river and switchback sea
Where the cormorants scud,
In his house on stilts high among beaks

Deaths And Entrances

© Dylan Thomas

On almost the incendiary eve
Of several near deaths,
When one at the great least of your best loved
And always known must leave

V

© Tony Harrison

Next millennium you'll have to search quite hard
to find my slab behind the family dead,
butcher, publican, and baker, now me, bard
adding poetry to their beef, beer and bread.

The long sigh of the Frog

© Emily Dickinson

The long sigh of the Frog
Upon a Summer's Day
Enacts intoxication
Upon the Revery --

The Daisy follows soft the Sun

The Daisy follows soft the Sun --
And when his golden walk is done --
Sits shyly at his feet --
He -- waking -- finds the flower there --
Wherefore -- Marauder -- art thou here?
Because, Sir, love is sweet!

The Crickets sang

The Crickets sang
And set the Sun
And Workmen finished one by one
Their Seam the Day upon.

Peace is a fiction of our Faith --

Peace is a fiction of our Faith --
The Bells a Winter Night
Bearing the Neighbor out of Sound
That never did alight.

One of the ones that Midas touched

One of the ones that Midas touched
Who failed to touch us all
Was that confiding Prodigal
The reeling Oriole --

Oh what a Grace is this,

Oh what a Grace is this,
What Majesties of Peace,
That having breathed
The fine -- ensuing Right
Without Diminuet Proceed!

Oh Future! thou secreted peace

Oh Future! thou secreted peace
Or subterranean woe --
Is there no wandering route of grace
That leads away from thee --