To the True Romance (Rudyard Kipling Poem)
Thy face is far from this our war, Our call and counter-cry, I shall not find Thee quick and kind, ...
Thy face is far from this our war, Our call and counter-cry, I shall not find Thee quick and kind, ...
Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told. His mercy fills the Khyber hills -- his grace ...
If the Led Striker call it a strike, Or the papers call it a war, They know not much what ...
Ah, Posthumus! our years hence fly And leave no sound: nor piety, Or prayers, or vow Can keep the wrinkle ...
Who does not wish, ever to judge aright, And, in the Course of Life's Affairs, To have a quick, and ...
He's an old man. Used up and bent, crippled by time and indulgence, he slowly walks along the narrow street. ...
Have pity ! show no pity ! Those eyes that send such shivers Into my ...
Have pity ! show no pity ! Those eyes that send such shivers Into my ...
An Old Story I It was roses, roses, all the way, With myrtle mixed in my path like mad. The ...
Ye ancient Maids, who ne'er must prove The early joys of youth and love, Whose names grim Fate (to whom ...
eipate toi basilei, xamai pese daidalos aula. ouketi PHoibos exei kaluban, ou mantida daphnen, ou pagan laleousan . apesbeto kai ...
I look into the aching womb of night; I look across the mist that masks the dead; The moon is ...
Don't jeer because we celebrate Armistice Day, Though thirty years of sorry fate Have passed away. Though still we gaurd ...
Gold! We leapt from our benches. Gold! We sprang from our stools. Gold! We wheeled in the furrow, fired with ...
Oh ye whose hearts are resonant, and ring to War's romance, Hear ye the story of a boy, a peasant ...
Poppies, you try to tell me, glowing there in the wheat; Poppies! Ah no! You mock me: It's blood, I ...
"I'm going, Billy, old fellow. Hist, lad! Don't make any noise. There's Boches to beat all creation, the pitch of ...
In fifty years, when peace outshines Remembrance of the battle lines, Adventurous lads will sigh and cast Proud looks upon ...
Old Man Death's a lousy heel who will not play the game: Let Graveyard yawn and doom down crash, he'll ...
Observe the clasped hands! Are they hands of farewell or greeting, Hands that I helped or hands that helped me? ...
Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, The ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories