Hope poems

/ page 139 of 439 /

Order by :

1
. . .
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
. . .
439

England

© William Wilfred Campbell

ENGLAND, England, England,
Girdled by ocean and skies,
And the power of a world, and the heart of a race,
And a hope that never dies.

I shall not go with pain
Whether you hold me, whether you forget
My little loss and my immortal gain.
O flower unseen, O fountain sealed apart!
Give me one look, one look remembering yet,
Sweet heart.

The Beaks Of Eagles

© Robinson Jeffers

An eagle's nest on the head of an old redwood on one of the

precipice-footed ridges

An Invitation To Edward Walpole, Esq.

© Mary Barber

The first Glass shall welcome you, Sir, to our Coast;
And dear Lady Conway shall be my next Toast.
With Mirth, and good Humour, I'll make up the Treat;
I know you're too wise, to love dining in State.

Consolation

© Harriet Beecher Stowe

Ah, many-voiced and angry! how the waves
Beat turbulent with terrible uproar!
Is there no rest from tossing, - no repose?
Where shall we find a haven and a shore?

Suggested By The Death Of Charles Skinner Matthews

© John Kenyon

Joyously launched on life's untravelled streams,

Youth fears nor open sea nor treacherous bay;

When Moonlike Ore The Hazure Seas

© William Makepeace Thackeray

When moonlike ore the hazure seas

In soft effulgence swells,

Stanzas Composed During A Thunder-storm

© George Gordon Byron

Chill and mirk is the nightly blast,
Where Pindus' mountains rise,
And angry clouds are pouring fast
The vengeance of the skies.

A Book of Dreams: Part I

© George MacDonald

I lay and dreamed. The master came
In his old woven dress;
I stood in joy, and yet in shame,
Oppressed with earthliness.

Red Night

© Robert Laurence Binyon

There, there is all unsealed:
Terror and hope, ecstasy and despair
Their apparition yield,
While still through kindled street and shadowy square
The faces pass, the uncounted faces crowd,--
Rages, lamentings, joys, in masks of flesh concealed.

Song of the Squatter

© Anonymous

The boss last night in the hut did say
We start to muster at break of day;
So be up first thing, and dont be slow;
Saddle your horses and off you go.

Looking Death In The face

© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

He'll die with. A brave lad, and very like
His sister.
* * * * * *

The Victories Of Peace

1.
GONE is the tempest that clouded
The land with its dark desolation.
Out from the pall that enshrouded

Prometheus

One after one the stars have risen and set,

Sparkling upon the hoarfrost on my chain:

The Four Seasons : Spring

Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! come,
And from the bosom of yon dropping cloud,
While music wakes around, veil'd in a shower
Of shadowing roses, on our plains descend.

The German-American

HONOR to him whose very blood remembers
The old, enchanted dream-song of the Rhine,
Although his house of life. is fair with shine
Of fires new-kindled on the buried embers;

The Second Booke Of Qvodlibets

Epigrams are much like to Oxymell,
Hony and Vineger compounded well:
Hony, and sweet in their inuention,
Vineger in their reprehension.
As sowre, sweet Oxymell, doth purge though fleagme:
These are to purge Vice, take them as they meane.