Works

I.

I.
What's become of Waring
Since he gave us all the slip,
Chose land-travel or seafaring,
Boots and chest or staff and scrip,
Rather than pace up and down
Any longer London town?...

Not from Mars and not from Thor
Comes the war, the welcome war,
Many months we waited for
To free us from the bondage
Of Winter's gloomy reign:
Valor to our hope is bound,...

Warm hands, warm, thy men are gone to plough;
If you want to warm your hands, warm your hands now.

That old warmin pan wi' it's raand, brazzen face,
Has hung thear for monny a day;
'Twor mi Gronny's, an th' haase wodn't luk like th' same place,
If we tuk th' owd utensil away.
...

There is something in the sound of drum and fife
That stirs all the savage instincts into life.

In the old times of peace we went our ways,
Through proper days...

They stood at the garden gate.
By the lifting of a lid
She might have read her fate
In a little thing he did.

He plucked a beautiful flower;
Tore it away from its place...

High in the heavens I saw the moon this morning,
Albeit the sun shone bright;
Unto my soul it spoke, in voice of warning,
"Remember Night!"

Waken not Amor from sleep! The beauteous urchin still slumbers;

Go, and complete thou the task, that to the day is assign'd!
Thus doth the prudent mother with care turn time to her profit,
...

When enwrapped in rosy pleasure,
Our careless pulses beat,
With a rhythm sweet, sweet,
To the music's merry measure.

When world waves rise around us,
With soft transparent weight,...

High in the heavens I saw the moon this morning,
Albeit the sun shone bright;
Unto my soul it spoke, in voice of warning,
"Remember Night!"

Through the sunshine, and through the rain
Of these changing days of mist and splendour,
I see the face of a year-old pain
Looking at me with a smile half tender.
...

I would like to lie in my bed
In a white shirt,
Wished the beard was gone,
The head combed.
The fingers were clean,
The nails also,
You, my tender woman,
Might provide peace.

Blood, hatred, appetite and apathy,
The sodden many and the struggling strong,
Who care not now though for another wrong
Another myriad innocents should die.
At candid savagery or oily lie...

The tread of arm'd mariners is in our streets to-day,
An Empire's pulse is beating in the march of this array.
From western woods, and Celtic hills, and homely Saxon shires,...

We will now sing in thoughtful strain
Of wars in Queen Victoria's reign.
The Russian bear did ages lurk,
All ready for to spring on Turk,
For Russian statesmen did divine...

We are they who come faster than fate: we are they who ride early or late:
We storm at your ivory gate: Pale Kings of the Sunset, beware!
Not on silk nor in samet we lie, not in curtained solemnity die...

Remember the glories of Brien the brave,
Tho' the days of the hero are o'er;
Tho' lost to Mononia and cold in the grave,[2]
He returns to Kinkora no more.[3]...

This is the way we wash the clo'es
Free from dirt and smoke and clay!
Through and through the water flows,
Carries Ugly right away!

This is the way we bleach the clo'es:...

Rich, honored by my fellow citizens,
The father of many children, born of a noble mother,
All raised there
In the great mansion - house, at the edge of town.
Note the cedar tree on the lawn!...

A monument to Washington?
A tablet graven with his name?--
Green be the mound it stands upon,
And everlasting as his fame!

His glory fills the land--the plain,...