Hope poems

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The Vision Of Piers Plowman - Part 20

© William Langland

Thanne as I wente by the way, whan I was thus awaked,

Hevy chered I yede, and elenge in herte;

Were My Bosom As False as Thou Deem'st It To Be

© George Gordon Byron

Were my bosom as false as thou deem'st it to be,
I need not have wander'd from far Galilee;
It was but abjuring my creed to efface
The curse which, thou say'st, is the crime of my race.

Hymn I

© John Greenleaf Whittier

O THOU, whose presence went before
Our fathers in their weary way,
As with Thy chosen moved of yore
The fire by night, the cloud by day!

The Complaint of Nature

© John Logan

Few are thy days and full of woe,
O man of woman born!
Thy doom is written, "Dust thou art,
And shalt to dust return."

No bridge arched thy waters save that where the trees
Stretched their long arms above thee and kissed in the breeze:
No sound save the lapse of the waves on thy shores,
The plunging of otters, the light dip of oars.

A Piccaninny.

© James Brunton Stephens

LO by the "humpy" door a smockless Venus!

Unblushing bronze, she shrinks not, having seen us,

A Pat On The Back

© Edgar Albert Guest

A PAT on the back is a wonderful thing,

It gives a man courage to whistle and sing;

ElegyXI: The Bracelet

© John Donne

NOT that in colour it was like thy hair,

For armlets of that thou mayst let me wear ;

The Angel Of Patience

© John Greenleaf Whittier

To weary hearts, to mourning homes,
God's meekest Angel gently comes
No power has he to banish pain,
Or give us back our lost again;
And yet in tenderest love, our dear
And Heavenly Father sends him here.

The Worlds Convention Of The Friends Of Emancipation, Held In London In 1840

© John Greenleaf Whittier

YES, let them gather! Summon forth
The pledged philanthropy of Earth.
From every land, whose hills have heard
The bugle blast of Freedom waking;

Canada

© Stephan Stephansson

It was formerly believed, on a sea-battered shore
though the storm at home blasted,
that in the distant west there still lay lands,
where calm and sun never ended,
for there the good season had found it's retreat
and freedom and compassion - all that is best.

The Golden Age

Nor this the worst! When ripened Shame would hide
Fruits of that hour when Passion conquered Pride,
There are not wanting in this Christian land
The breast remorseless and the Thuggish hand,
To advertise the dens where Death is sold,
And quench the breath of baby-life for gold!

Lines Written As A School Exercise At Hawkshead, Anno Aetatis 14

"AND has the Sun his flaming chariot driven
Two hundred times around the ring of heaven,
Since Science first, with all her sacred train,
Beneath yon roof began her heavenly reign?

Niobe

``Zeus, and ye Gods, that rule in heaven above,
Is there naught holy, or to your hard hearts dear?
Have ye forgotten utterly to love,
Or to be kind, in that untroubled sphere?
If aught ye cherish, still by that I pray,
Destroy the life that ye have cursed this day!