By Thomas Bracken
God of Nations at Thy feet,
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free…
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free…
Explore Poems: Heroes & Patriotism
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- By UnknownHeyla! We have a story about the Spear-Danes, from the old days
when they were big and their kings showed their strength. There
was one king, Shield Schefing, who stole many mead-benches from
other tribes and terrified their leaders. At first, he was... - By UnknownOft him anhaga are gebideð,
metudes miltse, þeah þe he modcearig
geond lagulade longe sceolde
hreran mid hondum hrimcealde sæ,
wadan wræclastas. Wyrd bið ful aręd!
Swa cwæð eardstapa, earfeþa gemyndig,
wraþra wælsleahta, winemæga hryre:
“Oft ic sceolde ana uhtna gehwylce
mine ceare cwiþan. Nis nu cwicra nan
þe... - By Janet Loxley LewisWe have forgotten Paris, and his fate.
We have not much inquired
If Menelaus from the Trojan gate
Returning found the long desired
Immortal beauty by his hearth. Then late,
Late, long past the morning hour,
Could even she recapture from the dawn
The young delightful love?... - By Countee CullenWherein are words sublime or noble? What
Invests one speech with haloed eminence,
Makes it the sesame for all doors shut,
Yet in its like sees but impertinence?
Is it the hue? Is it the cast of eye,
The curve of lip or Asiatic breath,
Which... - By Duane NiatumHin-Mah-Too-Yah-Lat-Ket: Thunder-rolling in-the-mountains,
never reached with his people,
the Wal-lam-wat-kins, Canada’s promised land.
Instead, the fugitive chief sits in a corner of the prison car
clicking its way to Oklahoma.
Chained to his warriors, he is like a featherless eagle
forced to look at a sky... - By Alan DuganBecause of the unaccountable spirit of the troops
oh we were marched as we were never marched before
and flanked them off from home. Stupid Meade
was after them, head on to tail, but we convinced
him, finally, to flank, flank, cut off their... - By Derek WalcottThere were still shards of an ancient pastoral
in those shires of the island where the cattle drank
their pools of shadow from an older sky,
surviving from when the landscape copied such subjects as
“Herefords at Sunset in the Valley of the Wye.”
The... - By Patrick DurginHow do I compare the costs
Of leaving one system
Of cooperation
For another
System of cooperation?
How do I loosen the tongue
Enough to inhabit
The temple incognito?
What are the people to me
Until I condense my hesitations
And drink in stillness with
The rest of us, slightly drunk
But... - By James TateThe way to the toy store was blocked by a fallen tree
in the road. There was a policeman directing traffic down a
side street. I asked him, “What happened?” He said, “Lightning
in the night.” I took... - By Natasha Trethewey1
In which I try to decipher
the story it tells,
this syntax of monuments
flanking the old courthouse:
... - By Natalie ShaperoThe comet taught us how to watch the war.
The comet contended that fire
is romantic and recommended we each behold it alone,
envisioning out there somewhere our next
lover, craning up at this same sky.
Was the comet simply endeavoring
to keep us divided, I... - By Langston Hughes
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
(America never was America to me.)
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—
Let it... - By Ada LimónThe truth is, I’ve never cared for the National
Anthem. If you think about it, it’s not a good
song. Too high for most of us with “the rockets
red glare” and then there are the bombs.
(Always, always, there is war and bombs.)
Once,... - By David HernandezI’m this tiny, this statuesque, and everywhere
in between, and everywhere in between
bony and overweight, my shadow cannot hold
one shape in Omaha, in Tuscaloosa, in Aberdeen.
My skin is mocha brown, two shades darker
than taupe, your question is racist, nutmeg, beige,
I’m... - By Aluristawhat for the rush and bloody pain
what for the blooming and the rain
what for the quest and odyssey
what for the swimming and... - By Luljeta LleshanakuTranslated By Ani Gjika1.
Here I rest, in South Georgia.
A few feet of evolution away
lie the graves of whale hunters, pointing north.
A white fence shields them from elephant seals
and their apocalyptic screams that each day warn
of the end of the world, or maybe the... - By Margaret BurroughsMy children, my children, remember the day
When the Drum Major of Freedom's parade went away.
Stop crying now little children and listen
And you will know for the future what really did happen.
You will know why your father was solemn and grim
And... - By Margaret BurroughsVenerable black women
You of yesterday, you of today.
Black mothers of tomorrow yet to be
These lines are homage to you, for you.
Magnificent black women
The poets and singers have been remiss
Have sung too few poems and songs of you
And the image makers... - By Margaret BurroughsLet it be known to all, the story
Of the glorious struggle of my people.
Let it be known that black men and women
Helped to build this our country.
Let it be known that black men and women of the past
In an effort...