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Best Famous William Vaughn Moody Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous William Vaughn Moody poems. This is a select list of the best famous William Vaughn Moody poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous William Vaughn Moody poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of william vaughn moody poems.

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by William Vaughn Moody | |

A Grey Day

 Grey drizzling mists the moorlands drape, 
Rain whitens the dead sea, 
From headland dim to sullen cape 
Grey sails creep wearily.
I know not how that merchantman Has found the heart; but 'tis her plan Seaward her endless course to shape.
Unreal as insects that appall A drunkard's peevish brain, O'er the grey deep the dories crawl, Four-legged, with rowers twain: Midgets and minims of the earth, Across old ocean's vasty girth Toiling--heroic, comical! I wonder how that merchant's crew Have ever found the will! I wonder what the fishers do To keep them toiling still! I wonder how the heart of man Has patience to live out its span, Or wait until its dreams come true.


by William Vaughn Moody | |

On a Soldier Fallen in the Philippines

 Streets of the roaring town, 
Hush for him, hus, be still! 
He comes, who was stricken down 
Doing the word of our will.
Hush! Let him have his state, Give him his soldier's crown.
The grists of trade can wait Their grinding at the mill, But he cannot wait for his honor, now the trumpet has been blown.
Wreathe pride now for his granite brow, lay love on his breast of stone.
Toll! Let the great bells toll Till the clashing air is dim.
Did we wrong this parted soul? We will make it up to him.
Toll! Let him never guess What work we set him to.
Laurel, laurel, yes; He did waht we bade him do.
Praise, and never a whispered hint but the fight he fought was good; Never a word that the blood on his sword was his country's own heart's-blood.
A flag for the soldier's bier Who dies that his land may live; O, banners, banners here, That he doubt not nor misgive ! That he heed not from the tomb The evil days draw near When the nation, robed in gloom, With its faithless past shall strive.
Let him never dream that his bullet's scream went wide of its island mark, Home to the heart of his darling land where she stumbled and sinned in the dark.