To the Belgians (Laurence Binyon Poem)
O race that Cæsar knew, That won stern Roman praise, What land not envies you The laurel of these days? ...
O race that Cæsar knew, That won stern Roman praise, What land not envies you The laurel of these days? ...
The rain was ending, and light Lifting the leaden skies. It shone upon ceiling and floor And dazzled a child's ...
So old is the wood, so old, Old as Fear. Wrinkled roots; great stems; hushed leaves; No sound near. Shadows ...
Guns! far and near Quick, sudden, angry, They startle the still street, Upturned faces appear, Doors open on darkness, There ...
O WORLD, be nobler, for her sake! If she but knew thee what thou art, What wrongs are borne, what ...
Now is the time for the burning of the leaves, They go to the fire; the nostrils prick with smoke ...
Away, sad thoughts, and teasing Perplexities, away! Let other blood go freezing, We will be wise and gay. For here ...
In a vision of the night I saw them, In the battles of the night. 'Mid the roar and the ...
Of the old house, only a few, crumbled Courses of brick, smothered in nettle and dock, Or a shaped stone ...
In the high leaves of a walnut, On the very topmost boughs, A boy that climbed the branching bole His ...
In the shadow of a broken house, Down a deserted street, Propt walls, cold hearths, and phantom stairs, And the ...
COME then, as ever, like the wind at morning! Joyous, O Youth, in the aged world renew Freshness to feel ...
There are five men in the moonlight That by their shadows stand; Three hobble humped on crutches, And two lack ...
No, though our all be spent-- Heart's extremest love, Spirit's whole intent, All that nerve can feel, All that brain ...
For Mercy, Courage, Kindness, Mirth, There is no measure upon earth. Nay, they wither, root and stem, If an end ...
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children, England mourns for her dead across the sea. Flesh of her flesh ...
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