Oh, Masters, you who rule the world,
Will you not wait with me awhile,
When swords are sheathed and sails are furled,
And all the fields with harvest smile?
I would not waste your time for long,
I ask you but, when you are tired,
To read how by the weak, the strong
Are weighed and worshipped and desired.
When weary of the Mart, the Loom,
The Withering-house, the Riffle-blocks,
The Barrack-square, the Engine-room,
The pick-axe, ringing on the rocks,–
When tents are pitched and work is done,
While restful twilight broods above,
By fresh-lit lamp, or dying sun,
See in my songs how women love.
We shared your lonely watch by night,
We knew you faithful at the helm,
Our thoughts went with you through the fight,
That saved a soul,–or wrecked a realm
Ah, how our hearts leapt forth to you,
In pride and joy, when you prevailed,
And when you died, serene and true:
–We wept in silence when you failed!
Oh, brain that did not gain the gold!
Oh, arm, that could not wield the sword,
Here is the love, that is not sold,
Here are the hearts to hail you Lord!
You played and lost the game? What then?
The rules are harsh and hard we know,
You, still, Oh, brothers, are the men
Whom we in secret reverence so.
Your work was waste? Maybe your share
Lay in the hour you laughed and kissed;
Who knows but what your son shall wear
The laurels that his father missed?
Ay, you who win, and you who lose,
Whether you triumph,–or despair,–
When your returning footsteps choose
The homeward track, our love is there.
For, since the world is ordered thus,
To you the fame, the stress, the sword,
We can but wait, until to us
You give yourselves, for our reward.
To Whaler’s deck and Coral beach,
To lonely Ranch and Frontier-Fort,
Beyond the narrow bounds of speech
I lay the cable of my thought.
I fain would send my thanks to you,
(Though who am I, to give you praise?)
Since what you are, and work you do,
Are lessons for our easier ways.
‘Neath alien stars your camp-fires glow,
I know you not,–your tents are far.
My hope is but in song to show,
How honoured and dear you are.
A few random poems:
- cascades of emptiness by Steve Troyanovich
- Ольга Берггольц – Романс стойкого оловянного солдатика
- Psalm 87 poem – John Milton poems
- Heartbreak at 2 A.M. poem – Yuvraj Johri poems | Poetry Monster
- “Once we were happy” by Torquato Tasso
- Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey by William Wordsworth
- Alimony by Shel Silverstein
- Ольга Ермолаева – Если о плачущих
- Robert Burns: Duncan Davison :
- Ts’ai Chi’h poem – Ezra Pound poems
- Robert Burns: Inscription: Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of my poems, presented to the Lady whom, in so many fictitious reveries of passion, but with the most ardent sentiments of real friendship, I have so often sung under the name of-“Chloris.”
- Resolved To Be Loved
- Gratitude To The Unknown Instructors by William Butler Yeats
- Examination at the Womb-Door by Ted Hughes
- Гавриил Державин – Похвала за правосудие
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Apollo And The Graces poem – John Keats poems
- Answer To A Sonnet By J.H.Reynolds poem – John Keats poems
- An Extempore poem – John Keats poems
- Acrostic : Georgiana Augusta Keats poem – John Keats poems
- A Song About Myself poem – John Keats poems
- A Prophecy: To George Keats In America poem – John Keats poems
- A Party Of Lovers poem – John Keats poems
- A Galloway Song poem – John Keats poems
- A Dream, After Reading Dante’s Episode Of Paolo And Francesca poem – John Keats poems
- A Draught Of Sunshine poem – John Keats poems
- Written On The Day That Mr Leigh Hunt Left Prison poem – John Keats poems
- Written On A Summer Evening poem – John Keats poems
- Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer’s Tale Of The Flowre And The Lefe poem – John Keats poems
- Written Before Re-Reading King Lear poem – John Keats poems
- Why Did I Laugh Tonight? No Voice Will Tell poem – John Keats poems
- Where’s the Poet? poem – John Keats poems
- Where Be Ye Going, You Devon Maid? poem – John Keats poems
- When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be poem – John Keats poems
- To The Nile poem – John Keats poems
- To Solitude poem – John Keats poems
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Violet Nicolson ( 1865 – 1904); otherwise known as Adela Florence Nicolson (née Cory), was an English poetess who wrote under the pseudonym of Laurence Hope, however she became known as Violet Nicolson. In the early 1900s, she became a best-selling author. She committed suicide and is buried in Madras, now Chennai, India.