haiku stringlengths 5 2.3k | source stringlengths 1 74 |
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but a lad there was to his fellows sang
long ago long ago
and soon the world to his music rang | img2poems |
for the voice ye hear is the voice of home
long ago long ago
and the voice of youth with the world to roam | img2poems |
o nile and can it be
no memory dwells with thee
of grecian lore and the sweet grecian singer | img2poems |
the legions' iron tramp
the goths' wide-wandering camp
had these no fame that by thy shore might linger | img2poems |
then the songman flinging wide his songnet
on the last token laid his master's hand
none but dying men can understand | img2poems |
yonder sun that fierce and fiery-hearted
marches down the sky to vanish soon
rises pallid like the rainy moon | img2poems |
bid farewell to all that most thou lovest
tell thy heart thy living life is done
are not worth an hour of yonder sun | img2poems |
then he cried my songman i am passing
let her live her life is but begun
are not worth an hour of yonder sun | img2poems |
yet when there within the house of dying
the last silence held the sunset air
not alone she found the twilight fair | img2poems |
this ballad is founded on materials given to the author by the
late miss mary kingsley on her return from her last visit to the
bantu peoples of west africa | img2poems |
this and the two following pieces are from
the french of wenceslas duke of brabant and
luxembourg who died in | img2poems |
long ago to thee i gave
body soul and all i have
nothing in the world i keep | img2poems |
here comes antony bringing the pack
steady
he's laying them on | img2poems |
aw ye'll no be the loser
'tis better ten baskin' and blinkin
than ane that's a cruiser | img2poems |
man man
i was fearin' i'd stirred her
but i've got her the noo | img2poems |
hoot
fushin's as easy as murrder
when ye ken what to do | img2poems |
o lord our god we are strangers before thee and sojourners as were
all our fathers: our days on the earth are as a shadow and there is
none abiding | img2poems |
a state drum painted with the arms of sir francis
drake is preserved among other relics at buckland abbey the seat of
the drake family in devon | img2poems |
the two last stanzas have been misunderstood
it seems therefore necessary to state that they are intended to
refer to turner's picture in the national gallery of the fighting | img2poems |
edited with introduction and notes by
george herbert clarke
professor of english in the university of tennessee | img2poems |
mr
wilfred campbell and the ottawa evening journal: langemarck at
ypres | img2poems |
professor w
macneile dixon and the london times: to fellow
travellers in greece | img2poems |
mr
james norman hall and the spectator: the cricketers of
flanders | img2poems |
mr
thomas hardy and the london times: men who march away and
then and now | img2poems |
mr
william dean howells and the north american review: the
passengers of a retarded submersible | img2poems |
mr
robert underwood johnson: to russia new and free from poems of
war and peace published by the author | img2poems |
mr
rudyard kipling: the choice 'for all we have and are' and
the mine-sweepers | img2poems |
mr
edward marsh literary executor of the late rupert brooke: the
soldier and the dead | img2poems |
mrs
grace ellery channing stetson and the new york tribune: qui
vive | img2poems |
mr
tertius van dyke and the spectator: oxford revisited in
war-time | img2poems |
mrs
edith wharton: belgium from king albert's book (hearst's
international library company | img2poems |
messrs
chatto windus: fulfilment and the day's march by robert
nichols | img2poems |
lawrence j
gomme: italy in arms by clinton scollard from italy in
arms and other poems | img2poems |
messrs
charles scribner's sons: i have a rendezvous with death and
champagne - by the late alan seeger from poems | img2poems |
messrs
truslove and hanson: a mother's dedication by margaret
peterson from the women's message | img2poems |
the words of these eminent men ratify in the field of international
politics the hopeful anticipation which tennyson expressed in his poem
hands all round as it appeared in the london examiner february | img2poems |
our ancient bonds are riven
once more to us the eternal choice
of good or ill is given | img2poems |
we see and hold the good
bear witness earth we have made our choice
for freedom's brotherhood | img2poems |
britain and france and italy and russia newly born
have waited for thee in the night
oh come as comes the morn | img2poems |
i saw her first abreast the boston light
at anchor she had just come in turned head
and sent her hawsers creaking clattering down | img2poems |
there in smoke-smudged coats
lay funnelled liners dirty fishing-craft
blunt cargo-luggers tugs and ferry-boats | img2poems |
often i think of you jimmy doane
you who light-heartedly came to my house
three autumns to shoot and to eat a grouse | img2poems |
as i sat apart in this quiet room
my mind was full of the horror of war
and not with the hope of a visitor | img2poems |
i had dined on food that had lost its taste
my soul was cold and i wished you were here
when all in a moment i knew you were near | img2poems |
placing that chair where you used to sit
i looked at my book: three years to-day
since you laughed in that seat and i heard you say | img2poems |
my country is with you whatever befall
america britain these two are akin
in courage and honour they underpin | img2poems |
you were comely and tall you had corded arms
and sympathy's grace with your strength was blent
you were generous clever and confident | img2poems |
there was that in your hopes which uncountable lives
have perished to make your heart was fulfilled
with the breath of god that can never be stilled | img2poems |
a living symbol of power you talked
of the work to do in the world to make
life beautiful: yes and my heartstrings ache | img2poems |
to think how you at the stroke of war
chose that your steadfast soul should fly
with the eagles of france as their proud ally | img2poems |
you were america's self dear lad
the first swift son of your bright free land
to heed the call of the inner command | img2poems |
to image its spirit in such rare deeds
as braced the valour of france who knows
that the heart of america thrills with her woes | img2poems |
brave man is its flower and symbol who
makes bold to utter the words that choke
the throats of feebler timider folk | img2poems |
you flew for the western eagle and fell
doing great things for your country's pride
for the beauty and peace of life you died | img2poems |
britain and france have shrined in their souls
your memory yes and for ever you share
their love with their perished lords of the air | img2poems |
invisible now in that empty seat
you sit who came through the clouds to me
swift as a message from over the sea | img2poems |
my house is always open to you
dear spirit come often and you will find
welcome where mind can foregather with mind | img2poems |
and may we sit together one day
quietly here when a word is said
to bring new gladness unto our dead | img2poems |
knowing your dream is a dream no more
and seeing on some momentous pact
your vision upbuilt as a deathless fact | img2poems |
(lines for a monument to the american and british soldiers
of the revolutionary war who fell on the princeton
battlefield and were buried in one grave | img2poems |
for all we have and are
for all our children's fate
stand up and meet the war | img2poems |
once more the nations go
to meet and break and bind
a crazed and driven foe | img2poems |
from misty hill and misty fen
from cot and town and plough and moor
come in before i shut the door | img2poems |
has your last word of sophistry been said
o cult of slaves
then it is hers to speak | img2poems |
there is dust in my eyes for i cannot see
is that my michel to the right of thee
soldier of france | img2poems |
she said: now have i stayed too long in this my place of bliss
with these glad dead that comforted forget what sorrow is
upon that world whose stony stairs they climbed to come to this | img2poems |
but lo a cry hath torn the peace wherein so long i stayed
like a trumpet's call at heaven's wall from a herald unafraid
a million voices in one cry 'where is the maid the maid | img2poems |
i had forgot from too much joy that olden task of mine
but i have heard a certain word shatter the chant divine
have watched a banner glow and grow before mine eyes for sign | img2poems |
i would return to that my land flung in the teeth of war
i would cast down my robe and crown that pleasure me no more
and don the armor that i knew the valiant sword i bore | img2poems |
and angels militant shall fling the gates of heaven wide
and souls new-dead whose lives were shed like leaves on war's red tide
shall cross their swords above our heads and cheer us as we ride | img2poems |
for with me goes that soldier saint saint michael of the sword
and i shall ride on his right side a page beside his lord
and men shall follow like swift blades to reap a sure reward | img2poems |
grant that i answer this my call yea though the end may be
the naked shame the biting flame the last long agony
i would go singing down that road where fagots wait for me | img2poems |
this is life
flaming to heaven in a minute's span
when the breath of battle blows the smouldering spark | img2poems |
[since the bombardment of strasburg august her statue in
paris representing alsace has been draped in mourning by the french
people | img2poems |
qui vive
who comes
what approaches there | img2poems |
low and brown barns thatched and repatched and tattered
where i had seven sons until to-day
a little hill of hay your spur has scattered | img2poems |
man the whole globe in gold were no repayment
for what you have lost
and how shall i repay | img2poems |
long wert thou saddest of the nations wed
to sorrow as the fire to the flame
not yet relentless history had writ of teuton shame | img2poems |
land of new hope no more the minor key
no more the songs of exile long and lone
thy tears henceforth be tears of memory | img2poems |
forever let the equal record stand
a thousand winters for this spring of springs
that to a warring world through thee millennial longing brings | img2poems |
take then our hearts' rejoicing overflow
thou new-born daughter of democracy
whose coming sets the expectant earth aglow | img2poems |
but hark
what sound the ear dismays
mine italy mine italy | img2poems |
so the morning flung her cloak
through the hanging pall of smoke
trimmed with red it was and dripping with a deep and angry stain | img2poems |
and the day came walking then
through a lane of murdered men
and her light fell down before her like a cross upon the plain | img2poems |
nursed on their mothers' bosoms now they lie
a golgotha all shattered torn and sped
a mountain for these royal feet to tread | img2poems |
guns of verdun answer then
sisters when to guard lorraine
gunners lay you east again | img2poems |
heard ye the trumpet sound
the day
the day | img2poems |
england the mother-aerie of our brood
that on the summit of dominion stood
shakes in the blast: heaven battles overhead | img2poems |
and westward borne that planetary sweep
darkening o'er england and her times to be
already steps upon the ocean-deep | img2poems |
watch well my country that unearthly sea
lest when thou thinkest not and in thy sleep
unapt for war that gloom enshadow thee | img2poems |
in treason to the world you are enthroned
we rise and by the yet ungathered dead
not lightly shall the treason be atoned | img2poems |
and the hours too tardy-footed pass
the voiceless hush grows dense
'mid the imaginings alas | img2poems |
there there
hearken how my bells in the air
drive away care | img2poems |
there now
he goes
old bones i've wearied him | img2poems |
who would have then divined that dead would lie
like swaths of grain beneath the harvest moon
upon these lands the ancient belgae held | img2poems |
thus do our facile seers foretell
the truth that none can buy or sell
and e'en the wisest must ignore | img2poems |
will it be heaven
will it be hell
when there is peace | img2poems |
and we who deemed him wise
we who believed that thou wast dead
how should we seek thine eyes | img2poems |
let us fight fair for our own best or worst
so gentlemen of the guard
fire first | img2poems |
relentless savage hot and grim the infuriate columns press
where terror simulates disdain and danger is largess
where greedy youth claims death for bride and agony seems bliss | img2poems |
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