Hope poems
/ page 154 of 439 /The Lord of the Isles: Canto I.
© Sir Walter Scott
Here pause we, gentles, for a space;
And, if our tale hath won your grace,
Grant us brief patience, and again
We will renew the minstrel strain.
Two Scenes From The Life Of Blondel
© James Russell Lowell
SCENE I.--_Near a castle in Germany._
'Twere no hard task, perchance, to win
A Ballade Of Home
© Enid Derham
Princes and lords of high degree,
Smile, and we fling you scorn for scorn,
In hope and faith and memory
I love the land where I was born.
The Hesitating Veteran
© Ambrose Bierce
When I was young and full of faith
And other fads that youngsters cherish
The Dying Slave
© William Lisle Bowles
Faint-gazing on the burning orb of day,
When Afric's injured son expiring lay,
St. Peter's Day
© John Keble
Thou thrice denied, yet thrice beloved,
Watch by Thine own forgiven friend;
In sharpest perils faithful proved,
Let his soul love Thee to the end.
A Poets Eightieth Birthday
© Alfred Austin
``He dieth young whom the Gods love,'' was said
By Greek Menander; nor alone by One
The Hint Fm French
© Thomas Parnell
How nicely fair Phillis you manage yr slave
You neither reproach nor approve him
Elegy VII. Anno Aetates Undevigesimo (Translated From Milton)
© William Cowper
As yet a stranger to the gentle fires
That Amathusia's smiling Queen inspires,
Arcturus
© Emily Dickinson
"Arcturus" is his other name
I'd rather call him "Star."
It's very mean of Science
To go and interfere!
Sorrow
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Woe to him that has not known the woe of man,
Who has not felt within him burning all the want
Of desolated bosoms, since the world began;
Felt, as his own, the burden of the fears that daunt;
Who has not eaten failure's bitter bread, and been
Among those ghosts of hope that haunt the day, unseen.
To A Familiar Genius Flying By
© Vasily Andreyevich Zhukovsky
Reveal yourself, anonymous enchanter!
What heaven hastens you to me?
Why draw me to that promised land again
That I gave up so long ago?
The Leper
© John Newton
Oft as the leper's case I read,
My own described I feel;
Sin is a leprosy indeed,
Which none but Christ can heal.
Sonnet XXIII. Beethovens Fifth Symphony.
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
THE mind's deep history here in tones is wrought,
The faith, the struggles of the aspiring soul,
The confidence of youth, the chill control
Of manhood's doubts by stern experience taught;
The Thief And Cordelier. A Ballad
© Matthew Prior
Who has e'er been at Paris must needs know the Greve,
The fatal retreat of th' unfortunate brave,
Where honour and justice most oddly contribute
To ease heroes' pains by a halter and gibbet.
Derry down, down, hey derry down.
The Litanies Of Satan
© Charles Baudelaire
O you, the most knowing, and loveliest of Angels,
a god fate betrayed, deprived of praises,
O Satan, take pity on my long misery!
O, Prince of exile to whom wrong has been done,
The Ballade of the Incompetent Ballade-Monger
© James Kenneth Stephen
Dear Sir, though my language is low,
Let me dip in Pierian pools:
My verses are only so so,
But I hope I have kept to the rules.
Of Hell And The Estate of Those Who Perish
© John Bunyan
hus, having show'd you what I see
Of heaven, I now will tell
You also, after search, what be
The damned wights of hell.
Autumn Thoughts
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers,
And gone the Summer's pomp and show,
And Autumn, in his leafless bowers,
Is waiting for the Winter's snow.