Hope poems
/ page 121 of 439 /Phantasies
© Emma Lazarus
Rest, beauty, stillness: not a waif of a cloud
From gray-blue east sheer to the yellow west-
No film of mist the utmost slopes to shroud.
The Defence of Lucknow
© Alfred Tennyson
I
BANNER of England, not for a season, O banner of Britain, hast thou
Sonnet 60: :Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore..."
© William Shakespeare
Like as the waves make towards the pebbl'd shore,
So do our minutes hasten to their end;
The Lady, the Knight, and the Friar
© Thomas Love Peacock
O cavalier! what dost thou here,
Thy tuneful vigils keeping;
While the northern star looks cold from far
And half the world is sleeping?
Elegy IV
© Rainer Maria Rilke
O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes?
We are not of one mind. Are not like birds
Just a Love Letter
© Henry Cuyler Bunner
NEW YORK, July 20, 1883.
DEAR GIRL:
The town goes on as though
It thought you still were in it;
Queen Mab: Part IV.
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
'How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh,
Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear,
The Dream
© Giacomo Leopardi
It was the morning; through the shutters closed,
Along the balcony, the earliest rays
The Loom of Years
© Alfred Noyes
In the light of the silent stars that shine on the struggling sea,
In the weary cry of the wind and the whisper of flower and tree,
Christmas Eve 1914
© Eugene Field
Silent, to-night, o'er Judah's hills
Bend low the angel throng,
No heavenly music fills the air
Exultantly with song;
The Village Saturday Night
© Giacomo Leopardi
The dearest day of all the week
Is this, of hope and joy so full;
To-morrow, sad and dull,
The hours will bring, for each must in his thought
His customary task-work seek.
Foreign Lands
© Henry Lawson
Here we slave the dull years hopeless for the sake of Wool and Wheat
Here the homes of ugly Commerceniggard farm and haggard street;
Yet our mothers and our fathers won the life the heart demands
Less than fifty years gone over, we were born in Foreign Lands.
The Monk
© Edith Nesbit
WHEN in my narrow cell I lie,
The long day's penance done at last,
I see the ghosts of days gone by,
And hear the voices of the past.
Ode to Duty
© William Wordsworth
. Stern Daughter of the Voice of God!
O Duty! if that name thou love
St. Anthony The Reformer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
No fear lest praise should make us proud!
We know how cheaply that is won;
The idle homage of the crowd
Is proof of tasks as idly done.
Elegy XV: A Tale of a Citizen and his Wife
© John Donne
I SING no harm, good sooth, to any wight,
To lord or fool, cuckold, beggar, or knight,