Peace poems
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Christmas Carols (It Came upon the Midnight Clear)
© Edmund Hamilton Sears
It came upon the midnight clear, That glorious song of old,From angels bending near the earth To touch their harps of gold;"Peace on the earth, good will to men From heaven's all-gracious King" --The world in solemn stillness lay To hear the angels sing
Pro Patria
© Seaman Owen
England, in this great fight to which you go Because, where Honour calls you, go you must,Be glad, whatever comes, at least to know You have your quarrel just.
What a Friend We Have in Jesus
© Scriven Joseph Medlicott
What a friend we have in Jesus, All our sins and griefs to bear;What a privilege to carry Everything to God in prayer
Marmion: Canto 6
© Sir Walter Scott
Next morn the Baron climb'd the tower,To view afar the Scottish power, Encamp'd on Flodden edge:The white pavilions made a show,Like remnants of the winter snow, Along the dusky ridge
Marmion: Canto 5
© Sir Walter Scott
O, young Lochinvar is come out of the west,Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none,He rode all unarm'd, and he rode all alone
Last Rites
© Scott Francis Reginald
Within his tent of pain and oxygenThis man is dying; grave, he mutters prayers,Stares at the bedside altar through the screens,Lies still for invocation and for hands
Youth and Calm
© Matthew Arnold
'Tis death! and peace, indeed, is here,
And ease from shame, and rest from fear.
Rockall
© Sargent Epes
Pale ocean rock! that, like a phantom shape,Or some mysterious spirit's tenement,Risest amid this weltering waste of waves,Lonely and desolate, thy spreading baseIs planted in the sea's unmeasured depths,Where rolls the huge leviathan o'er sandsGlistening with shipwrecked treasures
Lines Written in Kensington Gardens
© Matthew Arnold
In this lone, open glade I lie,
Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand;
And at its end, to stay the eye,
Those black-crown'd, red-boled pine-trees stand!
A Prayer for Yeats's Son
© Rowley Rosemarie
Once more the mob is howling and half hidUnder the cupola of the dustbin lidMy child screams on: there is no obstacleSave Paul's edict and the seven bare hillsWhereby the television, and unrestBred in the church for centuries, can be stayedAnd for an hour I have walked and prayedBecause there is no room for my kind
Flight into Reality
© Rowley Rosemarie
Dedicated to the memory of my best friend Georgina, (1942-74)and to her husband Alex Burns and their childrenNulles laides amours ne belles prison -Lord Herbert of Cherbury
Inaugural Poem
© Maya Angelou
A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
Tantramar Revisited
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
Summers and summers have come, and gone with the flight of the swallow;Sunshine and thunder have been, storm, and winter, and frost;Many and many a sorrow has all but died from remembrance,Many a dream of joy fall'n in the shadow of pain
The Departing of Gluskâp
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
It is so long ago; and men well-nighForget what gladness was, and how the earthGave corn in plenty, and the rivers fish,And the woods meat, before he went away.His going was on this wise.
Ave! (An Ode for the Shelley Centenary, 1892)
© Sir Charles George Douglas Roberts
I Wide marshes ever washed in clearest air,Whether beneath the sole and spectral star The dear severity of dawn you wear,Or whether in the joy of ample day And speechless ecstasy of growing JuneYou lie and dream the long blue hours away Till nightfall comes too soon,Or whether, naked to the unstarred night,You strike with wondering awe my inward sight, --
II Go forth to you with longing, though the yearsThat turn not back like your returning streams And fain would mist the memory with tears,Though the inexorable years deny My feet the fellowship of your deep grass,O'er which, as o'er another, tenderer sky, Cloud phantoms drift and pass, --You know my confident love, since first, a child,Amid your wastes of green I wandered wild
White Flock
© Anna Akhmatova
Copyright Anna Akhmatova
Copyright English translation by Ilya Shambat (ilya_shambat@yahoo.com)
Origin: http://www.geocities.com/ilya_shambat/akhmatova.html
Stones from Ashbourn Churchyard
© Reibetanz John
Jesse Quantrill, MillerThe toll taken, the grist drest:Here the bran, the flour with Christ.
Daily Bread
© Reibetanz John
We have cried often when we have given them the little victualling wehad to give them; we had to shake them, and they have fallen to sleepwith the victuals in their mouths many a time
My Last Will
© Raleigh Walter Alexander
When I am safely laid away,Out of work and out of play,Sheltered by the kindly groundFrom the world of sight and sound,One or two of those I leaveWill remember me and grieve,Thinking how I made them gayBy the things I used to say;-- But the crown of their distressWill be my untidiness
