Best Famous Mortars Poems
Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Mortars poems. This is a select list of the best famous Mortars poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Mortars poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of mortars poems.
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Written by
Sarojini Naidu |
A KOKILA called from a henna-spray:
Lira! liree! Lira! liree!
Hasten, maidens, hasten away
To gather the leaves of the henna-tree.
Send your pitchers afloat on the tide,
Gather the leaves ere the dawn be old,
Grind them in mortars of amber and gold,
The fresh green leaves of the henna-tree.
A kokila called from a henna-spray:
Lira! liree! Lira! liree!
Hasten maidens, hasten away
To gather the leaves of the henna-tree.
The tilka's red for the brow of a bride,
And betel-nut's red for lips that are sweet;
But, for lily-like fingers and feet,
The red, the red of the henna-tree.
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Written by
Thomas Hardy |
By Corporal Tullidge. See "The Trumpet-Major"
In Memory of S. C. (Pensioner). Died 184-
WE trenched, we trumpeted and drummed,
And from our mortars tons of iron hummed
Ath'art the ditch, the month we bombed
The Town o' Valencie?n.
'Twas in the June o' Ninety-dree
(The Duke o' Yark our then Commander be?n)
The German Legion, Guards, and we
Laid siege to Valencie?n.
This was the first time in the war
That French and English spilled each other's gore;
--God knows what year will end the roar
Begun at Valencie?n!
'Twas said that we'd no business there
A-topper?n the French for disagre?n;
However, that's not my affair--
We were at Valencie?n.
Such snocks and slats, since war began
Never knew raw recruit or veter?n:
Stone-deaf therence went many a man
Who served at Valencie?n.
Into the streets, ath'art the sky,
A hundred thousand balls and bombs were fle?n;
And harmless townsfolk fell to die
Each hour at Valencie?n!
And, sweat?n wi' the bombardiers,
A shell was slent to shards anighst my ears:
--'Twas night the end of hopes and fears
For me at Valencie?n!
They bore my wownded frame to camp,
And shut my gap?n skull, and washed en cle?n,
And jined en wi' a zilver clamp
Thik night at Valencie?n.
"We've fetched en back to quick from dead;
But never more on earth while rose is red
Will drum rouse Corpel!" Doctor said
O' me at Valencie?n.
'Twer true. No voice o' friend or foe
Can reach me now, or any live?n be?n;
And little have I power to know
Since then at Valencie?n!
I never hear the zummer hums
O' bees; and don't know when the cuckoo comes;
But night and day I hear the bombs
We threw at Valencie?n....
As for the Duke o' Yark in war,
There be some volk whose judgment o' en is me?n;
But this I say--'a was not far
From great at Valencie?n.
O' wild wet nights, when all seems sad,
My wownds come back, as though new wownds I'd had;
But yet--at times I'm sort o' glad
I fout at Valencie?n.
Well: Heaven wi' its jasper halls
Is now the on'y Town I care to be in....
Good Lord, if Nick should bomb the walls
As we did Valencie?n!
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