Christian Milne


Christian Milne Poems

1. A Prayer 9/27/2010
2. A Scotch Song 9/27/2010
3. Address To A New Weaned Child 9/27/2010
4. Address To The Shade Of Burns 9/27/2010
5. Advice To A Young Female 9/27/2010
6. Introductory Verses 9/27/2010
7. I'Ve Ate This Day Of Jesus ' Feast, 9/27/2010
8. On A Blank Leaf Of The 9/27/2010
9. On A Blank Leaf Of The Bible 9/27/2010
10. On A Lady, 9/27/2010
11. On Buonaparte’s Coronation 9/27/2010
12. On Envy 9/27/2010
13. On My Wedding Gown 9/27/2010
14. On Seeing A List Of Subscribers To This Little Book 9/27/2010
15. On The Birth Of A Child, A Few Days After The Death Of A First 9/27/2010
16. Painful Anxiety 9/27/2010
17. Painful Reflections When Sick 9/27/2010
18. Sent With A Flower Pot, Begging A Slip Of Geranium 9/27/2010
19. Song #1 9/27/2010
20. Song #10 9/27/2010
21. Song #2 9/27/2010
22. Song #3 9/27/2010
23. Song #5 9/27/2010
24. Song #6 9/27/2010
25. Song #7 9/27/2010
26. Song #8 9/27/2010
27. Song #9 9/27/2010
28. The Aged Cottagers 9/27/2010
29. The Almanack 9/27/2010
30. The Captive Sailor 9/27/2010
31. The Inconstant Lover 9/27/2010
32. The Parting 9/27/2010
33. The Sailor’s Adieu 9/27/2010
34. The Shipwreck 9/27/2010
35. The Wounded Soldier 9/27/2010
36. To A Gentleman, Desirous Of Seeing My Manuscripts 9/27/2010
37. To A Gentleman, Who Sent Me A Present Of Pens 9/27/2010
38. To A Lady, January 1st, 1805 9/27/2010
39. To A Lady, Who Did Me The Honour To Call At My House 9/27/2010
40. To A Lady, Who Said It Was Sinful To Read Novels 9/27/2010

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Best Poem of Christian Milne

The Wounded Soldier


WHILE tyrants sit enthron'd in state,
With trophies at their feet,
And fawning courtiers round them wait,
With adulation sweet!
Informing them in pompous strain,
Of feats atchieved in war,
That will immortalize their reign,
And spread their fame afar.
Ah! little reckon they the woe
To many thousands wrought,
Who bleed and die, to crown their brow
With laurels dearly bought!
They think not of the bitter tears
By soldiers' widows shed,
When round a helpless group appears,
Imploring them for bread.
I met this morn a beggar ...

Read the full of The Wounded Soldier

Introductory Verses

WHILE worth and taste with generous hand entwine
A wreath to bind this humble brow of mine,
Kind ABERDONIA 's sons and daughters fair
Add each a twig or leaf with friendly care;
Nor scorn the simple works of one whose name
Has never swell'd the rolls or trump of Fame.
I'm griev'd to think, that those whose lot is thrown
Upon an equal level with my own,
Should view her now with envy, scorn, or hate,

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