Hope poems
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A Sicilian Idyll
© Thomas Sturge Moore
Cydilla
Thanks, Damon; now, by Zeus, thou art so brisk,
It shames me that to stoop should try my bones.
John Pegram
© William Gordon McCabe
What shall we say now of our knight,
Or how express the measure of our woe
For him who rode the foremost in the fight,
Whose good blade flashed so far amid the foe?
Those Born In Obscure Times
© Alexander Blok
Those born in obscure times
Do not remember their way.
We, children of Russia's frightful years
Cannot forget a thing.
Yew-Trees
© William Wordsworth
There is a Yew-tree, pride of Lorton Vale,
Which to this day stands single, in the midst
Of its own darkness, as it stood of yore:
Associations
© William Lisle Bowles
As o'er these hills I take my silent rounds,
Still on that vision which is flown I dwell,
Douro
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The dripping of the boughs in silence heard
Softly; the low note of some lingering bird
Amid the weeping vapour; the chill fall
Of solitary evening upon all
A child said, What is the grass?
© Walt Whitman
A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full
hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it
is any more than he.
My Comforter
© Emily Jane Brontë
Well hast thou spoken, and yet, not taught
A feeling strange or new;
Thou hast but roused a latent thought,
A cloud-closed beam of sunshine, brought
To gleam in open view.
The Dream Star
© George Essex Evans
Whisper, O wings of the wind! Sing me your song, O sea!
Grey is the weary world, and grey is the heart of me!
Into my shadowy heart pierce like the star of old,
Pearl of the tender dawn, kissed by the trembling gold!
The Mary (A Sea-Side Sketch)
© Thomas Hood
Lov'st thou not, Alice, with the early tide
To see the hardy Fisher hoist his mast,
And stretch his sail towards the ocean wide,
Like God's own beadsman going forth to cast
The Bacchanal Of Alexander
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I
A wondrous rumour fills and stirs
The wide Carmanian Vale;
On leafy hills the sunburnt vintagers
To Edward Williams
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
The serpent is shut out from Paradise.
The wounded deer must seek the herb no more
In which its heart-cure lies:
Eclogue the First Selim
© William Taylor Collins
`O haste, fair maids, ye Virtues, come away,
Sweet Peace and Plenty lead you on your way!
The balmy shrub for you shall love our shore,
By Ind excelled or Araby no more.
Hope
© Charlotte Turner Smith
Parody on Lord Strangford's "Just like Love."
JUST like Hope is yonder bow,
Hope Triumphant in Death
© Thomas Campbell
Unfading Hope! when life's last embers burn -
When soul to soul, and dust to dust return,
Dan Paine
© James Whitcomb Riley
Old friend of mine, whose chiming name
Has been the burthen of a rhyme
A Dream Of Resurrection
© Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
SO heavenly beautiful it lay,
It was less like a human corse
Than that fair shape in which perforce
A lost hope clothes itself alway.
For The Fallen
© Robert Laurence Binyon
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,
England mourns for her dead across the sea.
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
