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Best Famous Wage War Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous Wage War poems. This is a select list of the best famous Wage War poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous Wage War poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of wage war poems.

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Written by Anne Bradstreet | Create an image from this poem

The Prologue

1

To sing of wars, of captains, and of kings,
Of cities founded, commonwealths begun,
For my mean pen, are too superior things,
And how they all, or each, their dates have run
Let poets, and historians set these forth,
My obscure verse shall not so dim their worth.


2

But when my wond'ring eyes, and envious heart,
Great Bartas' sugared lines do but read o'er,
Fool, I do grudge the Muses did not part
'Twixt him and me that overfluent store;
A Bartas can do what a Bartas will,
But simple I, according to my skill.


3

From schoolboy's tongue, no rhetoric we expect,
Nor yet a sweet consort, from broken strings,
Nor perfect beauty, where's a main defect;
My foolish, broken, blemished Muse so sings;
And this to mend, alas, no art is able,
'Cause nature made it so irreparable.


4

Nor can I, like that fluent sweet-tongued Greek
Who lisped at first, speak afterwards more plain.
By art, he gladly found what he did seek,
A full requital of his striving pain:
Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure.
A weak or wounded brain admits no cure.


5

I am obnoxious to each carping tongue,
Who says my hand a needle better fits;
A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong;
For such despite they cast on female wits:
If what I do prove well, it won't advance,
They'll say it's stolen, or else it was by chance.


6

But sure the antique Greeks were far more mild,
Else of our sex, why feigned they those nine,
And poesy made Calliope's own child?
So 'mongst the rest they placed the arts divine:
But this weak knot they will full soon untie,
The Greeks did nought, but play the fool and lie.


7

Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are,
Men have precedency, and still excel;
It is but vain, unjustly to wage war;
Men can do best, and women know it well;
Preeminence in each and all is yours,
Yet grant some small acknowledgement of ours.


8

And oh, ye high flown quills that soar the skies,
And ever with your prey, still catch your praise,
If e'er you deign these lowly lines your eyes,
Give wholesome parsley wreath, I ask no bays:
This mean and unrefinèd stuff of mine,
Will make your glistering gold but more to shine.


Written by Kahlil Gibran | Create an image from this poem

Reason and Passion XV

 And the priestess spoke again and said: "Speak to us of Reason and Passion." 

And he answered saying: 

Your soul is oftentimes a battlefield, upon which your reason and your judgment wage war against passion and your appetite. 

Would that I could be the peacemaker in your soul, that I might turn the discord and the rivalry of your elements into oneness and melody. 

But how shall I, unless you yourselves be also the peacemakers, nay, the lovers of all your elements? 

Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul. 

If either your sails or our rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. 

For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction. 

Therefore let your soul exalt your reason to the height of passion; that it may sing; 

And let it direct your passion with reason, that your passion may live through its own daily resurrection, and like the phoenix rise above its own ashes. 

I would have you consider your judgment and your appetite even as you would two loved guests in your house. 

Surely you would not honour one guest above the other; for he who is more mindful of one loses the love and the faith of both. 

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows - then let your heart say in silence, "God rests in reason." 

And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, - then let your heart say in awe, "God moves in passion." 

And since you are a breath In God's sphere, and a leaf in God's forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion.
Written by Anne Bradstreet | Create an image from this poem

Prologue

 1 To sing of Wars, of Captains, and of Kings,
2 Of Cities founded, Common-wealths begun,
3 For my mean Pen are too superior things;
4 Or how they all, or each their dates have run,
5 Let Poets and Historians set these forth.
6 My obscure lines shall not so dim their worth. 

7 But when my wond'ring eyes and envious heart
8 Great Bartas' sugar'd lines do but read o'er,
9 Fool, I do grudge the Muses did not part
10 'Twixt him and me that over-fluent store.
11 A Bartas can do what a Bartas will
12 But simple I according to my skill. 

13 From School-boy's tongue no Rhet'ric we expect,
14 Nor yet a sweet Consort from broken strings,
15 Nor perfect beauty where's a main defect.
16 My foolish, broken, blemished Muse so sings,
17 And this to mend, alas, no Art is able,
18 'Cause Nature made it so irreparable. 

19 Nor can I, like that fluent sweet-tongued Greek
20 Who lisp'd at first, in future times speak plain.
21 By Art he gladly found what he did seek,
22 A full requital of his striving pain.
23 Art can do much, but this maxim's most sure:
24 A weak or wounded brain admits no cure. 

25 I am obnoxious to each carping tongue
26 Who says my hand a needle better fits.
27 A Poet's Pen all scorn I should thus wrong,
28 For such despite they cast on female wits.
29 If what I do prove well, it won't advance,
30 They'll say it's stol'n, or else it was by chance. 

31 But sure the antique Greeks were far more mild,
32 Else of our Sex, why feigned they those nine
33 And poesy made Calliope's own child?
34 So 'mongst the rest they placed the Arts divine,
35 But this weak knot they will full soon untie.
36 The Greeks did nought but play the fools and lie. 

37 Let Greeks be Greeks, and Women what they are.
38 Men have precedency and still excel;
39 It is but vain unjustly to wage war.
40 Men can do best, and Women know it well.
41 Preeminence in all and each is yours;
42 Yet grant some small acknowledgement of ours. 

43 And oh ye high flown quills that soar the skies,
44 And ever with your prey still catch your praise,
45 If e'er you deign these lowly lines your eyes,
46 Give thyme or Parsley wreath, I ask no Bays.
47 This mean and unrefined ore of mine
48 Will make your glist'ring gold but more

Book: Reflection on the Important Things