Hope poems
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Spring Flowers From Ireland
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
On receiving an early crocus and some violets in a letter from Ireland.
Within the letter's rustling fold
Pharsalia - Book VII: The Battle
© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
Then burned their souls
At these his words, indignant at the thought,
And Rome rose up within them, and to die
Was welcome.
Scholar And The Carpenter
© Jean Ingelow
While ripening corn grew thick and deep,
And here and there men stood to reap,
Manna Hoarded
© John Newton
The manna favored Israel's meat,
Was gathered day by day;
When all the host was served, the heat
Melted the rest away.
Shooting
© Henry James Pye
The Monarch hears, and with reluctant eyes
Gives the consent his boding heart denies;
His brow a placid guise dissembling wears,
While Reason vainly combats stronger fears.
Arnold Rode Behind
© Roderic Quinn
WE galloped down the sodden track
Close buttoned 'gainst the wind;
I took the lead with whip and spur,
And Arnold rode behind.
The Woman Who Went To Hell [An Irish Legend]
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Young Dermod stood by his mother's side,
And he spake right stern and cold;
Now, why do you weep and wail," he said,
And joy from my bride withhold ?
England
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Shall we but turn from braggart pride
Our race to cheapen and defame?
Before the world to wail, to chide,
And weakness as with vaunting claim?
"No, I'm not Byron: I am, yet,"
© Mikhail Lermontov
I am not Byron--yet I am
One fore-elected, yet one more
Unknown, world-hunted wanderer,
A Russian in my mood and mind.
On Mr. Howard's Account Of Lazarettos
© William Lisle Bowles
Mortal! who, armed with holy fortitude,
The path of good right onward hast pursued;
The Garden of Sin
© Robert Fuller Murray
I know the garden-close of sin,
The cloying fruits, the noxious flowers,
I long have roamed the walks and bowers,
Desiring what no man shall win:
To William H. Seward
© John Greenleaf Whittier
STATESMAN, I thank thee! and, if yet dissent
Mingles, reluctant, with my large content,
I cannot censure what was nobly meant.
But, while constrained to hold even Union less
Trinitie Sunday
© George Herbert
Lord, who hast formed me out of mud,
And hast redeemed me through thy bloud,
And sanctified me to do good;
A Meeting
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Quite carelessly I turned the newsy sheet;
A song I sang, full many a year ago,
Smiled up at me, as in a busy street
One meets an old-time friend he used to know.
A dialogue between Sir Henry Wootton and Mr. Donne
© John Donne
IF her disdain least change in you can move,
You do not love,
For when that hope gives fuel to the fire,
You sell desire.
Love is not love, but given free ;
And so is mine ; so should yours be.
Lines Written Under The Conviction That It Is Not Wise To Read Mathematics In November After Ones F
© James Clerk Maxwell
In the sad November time,
When the leaf has left the lime,
Accolon Of Gaul: Part IV
© Madison Julius Cawein
Hate, born of Wrath and mother red of Crime,
In Hell was whelped ere the hot hands of time,
With Deaths' Prophetic Ear
© Frank Dalby Davison
Lay my rifle here beside me, set my Bible on my breast,
For a moment let the warning bugles cease;
Children's Playground In The City
© Edith Nesbit
THIS is a place where men laid their dead,
Each with his life-tale of good or ill;
The Will To Live
© Edith Nesbit
Not to desire, to admit, to adore,
Casting the robe of the soul that you wore
Just as the soul casts the body's robe down.
This is man's destiny, this is man's crown.
This is the splendour, the end of the feast;
This is the light of the Star in the East.
