A Kiss (Bernard Freeman Trotter Poems)
She kissed me when she said good-bye— A child's kiss, neither bold nor shy. We had met but a few ...
She kissed me when she said good-bye— A child's kiss, neither bold nor shy. We had met but a few ...
Oh! we love all the French, and we speak in FrenchAs along through France we go.But the moments to us ...
Oh! it is not just the men who face the guns,Not the fighters at the Front alone, to-dayWho will bring ...
We did not bury him deep enough; break up the monument,Open the tomb, strip off the flags and the flowersAnd ...
Still I see them coming, coming,In their ragged broken line,Walking wounded in the sunlight,Clothed in majesty divine.For the fairest of ...
Encircled by the traffic's roarMidst music and the blaze of lightThe battle-jaded khaki knightsThrong, sleek and civilised once more.On, one ...
Only teaching on Tuesdays, book-worming in pajamas fresh from the washer each morning, I hog a whole house on Boston's ...
1918 We're not so old in the Army List, But we're not so young at our trade, For we had ...
FEBRUARY, 1917 I never thought again to hear The Oxford thrushes singing clear, Amid the February rain, Their sweet, indomitable ...
In ash-fine silt that spread like sand after the flood and before the wild weeds claimed the old stream bed; ...
I knew that James Whistler was part of the Paris scene, but I was still surprised when I found the ...
I lived among great houses, Riches drove out rank, Base drove out the better blood, And mind and body shrank. ...
1 Adios, Carenage In idle August, while the sea soft, and leaves of brown islands stick to the rim of ...
There were still shards of an ancient pastoral in those shires of the island where the cattle drank their pools ...
'Twas in a village in Lorraine Whose name I quite forget, I found I needfully was fain To buy a ...
The cruel war was over -- oh, the triumph was so sweet! We watched the troops returning, through our tears; ...
'Fall in, that awkward squad, and strike no more Attractive attitudes! Dress by the right! The luminous rich colours that ...
MAKE war songs out of these; Make chants that repeat and weave. Make rhythms up to the ragtime chatter of ...
Miniver Cheevy, child of scorn, Grew lean while he assailed the seasons; He wept that he was ever born, And ...
Oh, the weary, weary journey on the trek, day after day, With sun above and silent veldt below; And our ...
To go home and wear shorts forever in the enormous paddocks, in that warm climate, adding a sweater when winter ...
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