Defeat?

Who is it speaks of defeat? -
    I tell you a Cause like ours
Is greater than defeat can know;
    It is the power of powers!

As surely as the earth rolls round,
    As surely as the glorious sun
Brings the great world sea-wave,
    Must our Cause be won!

What is defeat to us? -
    Learn what a skirmish tells,
While the great Army marches on
    To storm earth's hells!

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

Francis William Lauderdale Adams (27 September 1862 – 4 September 1893) was an English writer, poet, dramatist, and social reformer. His literary work often reflected his radical socialist views. Adams lived a life marred by poverty and struggles with his health, eventually committing suicide at the age of 30. Despite his brief life, his contributions to literature and social thought remain significant.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

To Queen Victoria In England. An Address On Her Jubilee Year.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

Dublin At Dawn.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

Labour - Capital - Land.

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

Mount Rennie." {95}

Francis William Lauderdale Adams, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The New Locksley Hall. "Forty Years After."

Comrade, yet a little further I would go before the night
Closes round and chills in darkness all the glorious sunset light -
Yet a little, by the cliff there, till the stately home I see
Of the man who once was with us, comrade once with you and me!
Nay, but leave me, pass alone there; stay awhile and gaze again
On the various-jewelled waters and the dreamy southern main,
For the evening breeze is sighing in the quiet of the hills
Moving down in cliff and terrace to the singing sweet sea-rills,
While the river, silent-stealing, thro' the copse and thro' the lea
Winds her waveless way eternal to the welcome of the sea.
Yes, within that green-clad homestead, gardened grounds and velvet ease
Of a home where culture reigneth and the chambers whisper peace,
Is the man, the seer and s...

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

We Must Not Fail.

I.

We must not fail, we must not fail,
However fraud or force assail;
By honour, pride, and policy,
By Heaven itself!--we must be free.


II.

Time had already thinned our chain,
Time would have dulled our sense of pain;
By service long, and suppliance vile,
We might have won our owner's smile.


III.

We spurned the thought, our prison burst,
And dared the despot to the worst;
Renewed the strife of centuries,
And flung our banner to the breeze.


IV.

We called the ends of earth to view
The gallant deeds we swore to do;
They knew us wronged, they knew us brave,
And all we asked they freely gave.


V.

We took the starving peasant's mite
To aid in winning back his r...

Thomas Osborne Davis

Winners Or Losers?

Unless our Souls win back to Thee,
We shall have lost this fight.
Yes, though we win on field and sea,
Though mightier still our might may be,
We still shall lose if we win not Thee.
    Help us to climb, as in Thy sight,
    The Great High Way of Thy Delight.

It is the world-old strife again,--
The fight 'twixt good and ill.
Since first the curse broke out in Cain,
Each age has worn the grim red chain,
And ill fought good for sake of gain.
    Help us, through all life's conflict, still
    To battle upwards to Thy Will.

Are we to be like all the rest,
Or climb we loftier height?
Can we our wayward steps arrest?--
All life with nobler life invest?--
And so fulfil our Lord's behest?
    Help us, through all the world's dark night,

William Arthur Dunkerley (John Oxenham)

Battle Of Corruna. (Death Of Captain Cooke)

The tide of fate rolls on! heart-pierced and pale,
The gallant soldier lies,^[1] nor aught avail,
The shield, the sword, the spirit of the brave,
From rapine's armed hand thy vales to save,
Land of illustrious heroes, who, of yore,
Drenched the same plains with the invader's gore,
Stood frowning, in the front of death, and hurled
Defiance to the conquerors^[2] of the world!
Oh, when we hear the agonising tale
Of those who, faint, and fugitive, and pale,
Saw hourly, harassed through their long retreat,
Some worn companion sinking at their feet,
Yet even in danger and from toil more bold,
Back on their gathering foes the tide of battle rolled;
While tears of pity mingle with applause,
On the dread scene in silence let us pause;
Yes, pause, an...

William Lisle Bowles

England. In The Camp.

This is a leader's tent. "Who gathers here?"
    Enter and see and listen. On the ground
Men sit or stand, enter or disappear,
    Dark faces and deep voices all around.

One answers you. "You ask who gathers here?
    Companions! Generals we have none, nor chief.
What need is there? The plan is all so clear -
    The future's hope, the present's grim relief!

"Food for us all, and clothes, and roofs come first.
    The means to gain them? This, our leaguered band!
The hatred of the robber rich accursed
    Keeps foes together, makes fools understand.

"Beyond the present's faith, the future's hope
    Points to the dawning hour when all shall be
But one. The man condemned shall fit the rope
    Around the hangman's neck, and both be free!

Francis William Lauderdale Adams

The Song of the Pacifist

What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead?
Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed?
By the cheers of our Victory will the heart of the mother be comforted?

If by the Victory all we mean is a broken and brooding foe;
Is the pomp and power of a glitt'ring hour, and a truce for an age or so:
By the clay-cold hand on the broken blade we have smitten a bootless blow!

If by the Triumph we only prove that the sword we sheathe is bright;
That justice and truth and love endure; that freedom's throned on the height;
That the feebler folks shall be unafraid; that Might shall never be Right;

If this be all: by the blood-drenched plains, by the havoc of fire and fear,
By the rending roar of the War of Wars, by the Dea...

Robert William Service