Hope poems
/ page 122 of 439 /Ruth
© Henry Lawson
Are the fields of my fancy less fair through a window thats narrowed and barred?
Are the morning stars dimmed by the glare of the gas-light that flares in the yard?
No! And what does it matter to me if to-morrow I sail from the land?
I am free, as I never was free! I exult in my loneliness grand!
On Sarah Stonhouse, Second Wife Of The Rev. Sir James Stonhouse, Bart.
© Hannah More
Oh! if thy living excellence could teach,
Death has a loftier emphasis of speech:
Let death thy strongest lesson then impart,
And write, prepare to die on every heart.
Angelo
© William Watson
Then Angelo bethought him of his vow;
And stepping forward stood before the twain;
And from his girdle plucked a dagger forth;
And spake no word, but pierced his own heart through.
The Faerie Queene, Book I, Canto IV
© Edmund Spenser
To sinfull house of Pride, Duessa
guides the faithfull knight,
Where brothers death to wreak Sansjoy
doth chalenge him to fight.
The Last Review
© Henry Lawson
Turn the light down, nurse, and leave me, while I hold my last review,
For the Bush is slipping from me, and the town is going too:
Draw the blinds, the streets are lighted, and I hear the tramp of feet
And Im weary, very weary, of the Faces in the Street.
Sonnet
© Mary Darby Robinson
In early youth, blithe Spring's exulting day,
Each hour put forth new raptures to my view;
Each sunny morn on downy pinions flew,
And swift the jocund minutes danc'd away!
Within and Without: Part I: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
Robert.
Head in your hands as usual! You will fret
Your life out, sitting moping in the dark.
Come, it is supper-time.
The Christening
© Caroline Norton
So let it be! and when the noble head
Of thy true-hearted father, babe beloved,
Now glossy dark, is silver-gray instead,
And thy young birth-day far away removed;
Still may'st thou be a comfort and a joy,--
Still welcome as this day, unconscious boy!
Herve Riel
© Robert Browning
On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety two,
Did the English fight the French,--woe to France!
And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter thro' the blue.
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue,
Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Rance,
With the English fleet in view.
Twelfth Sunday After Trinity
© John Keble
The Son of God in doing good
Was fain to look to Heaven and sigh:
The Death Of Admiral Blake
© Sir Henry Newbolt
Laden with spoil of the South, fulfilled with the glory of achievement,
And freshly crowned with never-dying fame,
Sweeping by shores where the names are the names of the victories of England,
Across the Bay the squadron homeward came.
"Is There A Bitter Pang For Love Removed"
© Thomas Hood
That love might die with sorrow:I am sorrow;
And she, that loves me tenderest, doth press
Most poison from my cruel lips, and borrow
Only new anguish from the old caress;
Oh, this world's grief
Hath no relief
The Voyagers
© Roderic Quinn
HOW was it with the Genoese,
What feeling filled his heaving breast,
When far across the morning seas
He saw the island of his quest?
I Took His Dreams
© Margaret Widdemer
I TOOK his dreams from him,
Boy-dreams of gold and red,
I gave him sorrows dim,
White grief, instead, . . .
And for a little space
Joy in my careless face.
Breitmann In Politics
© Charles Godfrey Leland
VHEN ash de var vas ober, und Beace her shnow-wice vings
Vas vafin' o'er de coondry (in shpodts) like efery dings
Und heroes vere revardtet, de beople all pegan
To say 'tvas shame dat nodings vas done for Breitemann.
Tirocinium; or, a Review of Schools
© William Cowper
It is not from his form, in which we trace
Strength join'd with beauty, dignity with grace,