War poems
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On the Morning of Christ's Nativity
© John Milton
This is the month, and this the happy morn, Wherein the Son of Heav'n's eternal King,Of wedded Maid, and Virgin Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace
There's Nae Luck about the House
© William Mickle
And are ye sure the news is true? And are ye sure he's weel?Is this a time to think o' wark? Mak haste, lay by your wheel;Is this the time to spin a thread When Colin's at the door?Reach me my cloak, I'll to the quay And see him come ashore
The March into Virginia Ending in the First Manassas (July, 1861)
© Herman Melville
Did all the lets and bars appear To every just or larger end,Whence should come the trust and cheer? Youth must its ignorant impulse lend --Age finds place in the rear
Jottings of New York: A Descriptive Poem
© William Topaz McGonagall
Oh mighty City of New York! you are wonderful to behold,Your buildings are magnificent, the truth be it told,They were the only thing that seemed to arrest my eye,Because many of them are thirteen storeys high
Lines written under the conviction that it is not wise to read Mathematics in November after one’s fire is out
© James Clerk Maxwell
In the sad November time,When the leaf has left the lime,And the Cam, with sludge and slime, Plasters his ugly channel,While, with sober step and slow,Round about the marshes low,Stiffening students stumping go Shivering through their flannel
From Tamburlaine the Great, Part One ("Nature that framed us of four elements")
© Christopher Marlowe
Nature that framed us of four elements,Warring within our breast for regiment,Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds:Our souls, whose faculties can comprehendThe wondrous architecture of the worldAnd measure every wandering planet's course,Still climbing after knowledge infiniteAnd always moving as the restless spheres,Wills us to wear ourselves and never restUntil we reach the ripest fruit of all,That perfect bliss and sole felicity,The sweet fruition of an earthly crown
