Courage poems

 / page 40 of 77 /
star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

A Hidden Life

© George MacDonald

Ah God! when Beauty passes by the door,
Although she ne'er came in, the house grows bare.
Shut, shut the door; there's nothing in the house.
Why seems it always that it should be ours?
A secret lies behind which Thou dost know,
And I can partly guess.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Four Seasons : Summer

© James Thomson

From brightening fields of ether fair disclosed,
Child of the Sun, refulgent Summer comes,
In pride of youth, and felt through Nature's depth:
He comes attended by the sultry Hours,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Right to Die

© Paul Laurence Dunbar

I have no fancy for that ancient cant

That makes us masters of our destinies,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

On the Lady Elizabeth, and Count Palatine Being Married on St. Valentine's Day

© John Donne

Hail Bishop Valentine, whose day this is,

All the air is thy Diocese,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Flying at Forty

© Erica Jong

You call me
courageous,
I who grew up
gnawing on books,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Christ upon the Hill

© William Cosmo Monkhouse

  A couple old sat o'er the fire,
  And they were bent and gray;
  They burned the charcoal for their Lord,
  Who lived long leagues away.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

The Gentle Hand Of Women Folks

© Edgar Albert Guest

The gentle hand of women folks

Keeps this old world in line,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Elegy For My Father

© Annie Finch

“Bequeath us to no earthly shore until
Is answered in the vortex of our grave
The seal’s wide spindrift gaze towards paradise.”
—Hart Crane, “Voyages”

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Toys

© Edgar Albert Guest

I can pass up the lure of a jewel to wear

  With never the trace of a sigh,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Afternoon At A Parsonage

© Jean Ingelow

Preface.
What wonder man should fail to stay
  A nursling wafted from above,
The growth celestial come astray,
  That tender growth whose name is Love!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Alfred. Book IV.

© Henry James Pye

  "I come," the stranger said, "from fields of fame,
  A Saxon born, and Aribert my name.
  I come from Devon's shores, where Devon's lord
  Waves o'er the prostrate Dane the British sword.—
  Freedom might yet revisit Britain's coast,
  Did Alfred live to lead her victor host."

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Our Orders

© Julia Ward Howe

WEAVE no more silks, ye Lyons looms,
  To deck our girls for gay delights!
The crimson flower of battle blooms,
  And solemn marches fill the night.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Feigned Courage

© Charles Lamb

Horatio, of ideal courage vain,

Was flourishing in air his father's cane,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

At Dawn

© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

The dawn is here! I climb the hill;
The earth is young and strangely still;
A tender green is showing where
But yesterday my fields were bare. . . .
I climb and, as I climb, I sing;
The dawn is here, and with it - spring!

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

260. Sketch in Verse, inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox

© Robert Burns

But now for a Patron whose name and whose glory,
At once may illustrate and honour my story.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Orlando Furioso Canto 20

© Ludovico Ariosto

ARGUMENT

Guido and his from that foul haunt retire,

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

To Horace Bumstead

© James Weldon Johnson

  If so, take new and greater courage then,
  And think no more withouten help you stand;
  For sure as God on His eternal throne
  Sits, mindful of the sinful deeds of men,
  --The awful Sword of Justice in His hand,--
  You shall not, no, you shall not, fight alone.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

A Poem Beginning With A Line From Pindar

© Robert Duncan

But the eyes in Goya’s painting are soft,
diffuse with rapture absorb the flame.
Their bodies yield out of strength.
  Waves of visual pleasure
wrap them in a sorrow previous to their impatience.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

127. Stanzas on Naething

© Robert Burns

TO you, sir, this summons I’ve sent,
Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing;
But if you demand what I want,
I honestly answer you—naething.

star nullstar nullstar nullstar nullstar null

Ideals

© Edgar Albert Guest

Better than land or gold or trade

Are a high ideal and a purpose true;