A treasury of war poetry, British and American poems of the World war, ed., with intr. and notes, by G.H. ClarkeGeorge Herbert Clarke 1917 |
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Andre utgaver - Vis alle
A Treasury of War Poetry: British and American Poems of the World War 1914 ... G. H. Clarke Begrenset visning - 2016 |
A Treasury of War Poetry, British and American Poems of the World War, 1914 ... George Herbert Clarke Ingen forhåndsvisning tilgjengelig - 2016 |
Vanlige uttrykk og setninger
battle beauty beneath birds blood brave breath bright burn Captain Company comrades dark dawn dead dear death deep died dream drums E. A. Mackintosh earth England eyes face faith feet fields Fighting hard fire flame Flanders flowers France Francis Ledwidge George Edward Woodberry George Herbert Clarke glory golden green grey guns hand hear heard heart heaven Hell Henry Lawson Henry Newbolt hills honour Joyce Kilmer kings knew lads land Laurence Binyon light live Lochaber London look Lord Lys river Messrs moon Mopsus morning never night o'er Oxford peace Poems poet pride rose Rupert Brooke shadows shell shining silent sing skies sleep soldiers song soul spirit stars stood sweet sword tears thee There's thine things thou thought thunder trench Westminster Gazette whispering Wilfrid Wilson Gibson wind wings wonder Ypres
Populære avsnitt
Side 243 - IF I should die, think only this of me : That there's some corner of a foreign field That is for ever England.
Side 244 - I Have a Rendez-Vous with Death I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple blossoms fill the air — I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand, And lead me into his dark land, And close my eyes and quench my breath — It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death...
Side 369 - IN Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place ; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In Flanders fields.
Side 130 - Only a man harrowing clods In a slow silent walk, With an old horse that stumbles and nods Half asleep as they stalk. Only thin smoke without flame From the heaps of couch-grass; Yet this will go onward the same Though dynasties pass. Yonder a maid and her wight Come whispering by; War's annals will cloud into night Ere their story die.
Side 87 - It is portentous, and a thing of state That here at midnight, in our little town A mourning figure walks, and will not rest, Near the old courthouse pacing up and down, Or by his homestead, or in shadowed yards He lingers where his children used to play, Or through the market, on the well-worn stones, He stalks until the dawn-stars burn away. A bronzed, lank man! His suit of ancient black, A famous high top-hat and plain, worn shawl Make him the quaint great figure that men love, The prairie lawyer,...
Side 130 - In our heart of hearts believing Victory crowns the just, And that braggarts must Surely bite the dust, Press we to the field ungrieving, In our heart of hearts believing Victory crowns the just. Hence the faith and fire within us Men who march away...
Side 239 - And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud: 15 and I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh.
Side 93 - Bind her, grind her, burn her with fire, Cast her ashes into the sea, — She shall escape, she shall aspire, She shall arise to make men free: She shall arise in a sacred scorn, Lighting the lives that are yet unborn; Spirit supernal, Splendor eternal, England ! Helen Gray Cone.
Side 6 - Rightly to be great Is not to stir without great argument, But greatly to find quarrel in a straw When honour's at the stake.
Side 367 - They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old: Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning We will remember them.