Jessie Pope

(18 March 1868 - 14 December 1941 / Leicestershire, England)

Jessie Pope Poems

1. To A Stout Shepherdess 5/5/2011
2. The Longest Odds 5/5/2011
3. A Valentine [from An Old Lover] 5/15/2012
4. The Comet 5/15/2012
5. A Vain Appeal 5/15/2012
6. Cobbers 5/15/2012
7. The Clerk Of The Weather 5/15/2012
8. A Close Finish 5/15/2012
9. Coo-Ee 5/15/2012
10. The Two Goliaths 5/5/2011
11. A Muff 5/15/2012
12. To A Taube 5/5/2011
13. The Nut 5/5/2011
14. Three Jolly Huntsmen 5/5/2011
15. The Nut’s Birthday 8/31/2010
16. An Anzac Cap 5/15/2012
17. Crumbs Of Comfort 5/15/2012
18. A Sore Point 5/15/2012
19. Ware Wire! 5/15/2012
20. Love In A Mist 5/15/2012
21. The Lads Of The Maple Leaf 8/31/2010
22. The Zeppelin Armada 5/5/2011
23. Snowflakes 5/15/2012
24. An Anzac Poem 5/15/2012
25. The Niggers 5/15/2012
26. The War Budget 5/5/2011
27. The Outpost 5/5/2011
28. Anzac 5/15/2012
29. Love's Sacrifice 5/15/2012
30. War Girls 8/31/2010
31. Captive Conquerors 5/5/2011
32. Motor Martyrdom 5/5/2011
33. Loot! 5/5/2011
34. A Royal Cracksman 5/5/2011
35. April Antidotes 5/5/2011
36. An Overlord 5/5/2011
37. The K A Boys 5/5/2011
38. De Wet 5/5/2011
39. A Cossack Charge 5/5/2011
40. A Humble Appeal 5/5/2011
Best Poem of Jessie Pope

No!

By bridge and battery, town and trench,
They're fighting with bull-dog pluck;
Not one, from Tommy to General French,
Is down upon his luck.
There are some who stand and some who fall,
But how does the chorus go
That echoing chant in the hearts of all?
'Are we downhearted? NO!'
There's Jack, God bless him, upon the foam,
His isn't an easy task,
To strike for England, to strike right home,
So much, no more, does he ask.
On the dreadnought's deck where the big guns bark,
Or in quiet depths below
The salt wind wafts us a chantey. Hark !
'...

Read the full of No!

Who's For The Game?

Who’s for the game, the biggest that’s played,
The red crashing game of a fight?
Who’ll grip and tackle the job unafraid?
And who thinks he’d rather sit tight?
Who’ll toe the line for the signal to ‘Go!’?
Who’ll give his country a hand?
Who wants a turn to himself in the show?
And who wants a seat in the stand?
Who knows it won’t be a picnic – not much-

[Report Error]