Hope poems
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Fare Thee Well
© George Gordon Byron
Fare thee well! and if for ever,
Still for ever, fare thee well:
Even though unforgiving, never
'Gainst thee shall my heart rebel.
Hyperion, A Vision: Attempted Reconstruction Of The Poem
© John Keats
"With such remorseless speed still come new woes,
That unbelief has not a space to breathe.
Saturn! sleep on: me thoughtless, why should I
Thus violate thy slumbrous solitude?
Why should I ope thy melancholy eyes?
Saturn! sleep on, while at thy feet I weep."
The Spirit Of Discovery By Sea - Book The Second
© William Lisle Bowles
Oh for a view, as from that cloudless height
Where the great Patriarch gazed upon the world,
Fourth Sunday In Advent
© John Keble
Of the bright things in earth and air
How little can the heart embrace!
Soft shades and gleaming lights are there -
I know it well, but cannot trace.
On Revisiting The Sea-Shore, After Long Absence, Under Strong Medical Recommendation Not To Bathe
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
God be with thee, gladsome Ocean!
How gladly greet I thee once more!
Ships and waves, and ceaseless motion,
And men rejoicing on thy shore.
Ode To A Butterfly
© Thomas Wentworth Higginson
Thou spark of life that wavest wings of gold,
Thou songless wanderer mid the songful birds,
Three Studies From A Portrait
© Margaret Widdemer
1
OLD TALES
HER voice within the darkened room
Tells on old jests and tragedies
And little follies of her kin
And futile old nobilities:
Song For A Highland Drover Returning From England
© Robert Bloomfield
Now fare-thee-well, England; no further I'll roam;
But follow my shadow that points the way home;
Your gay southern Shores shall not tempt me to stay;
For my Maggy's at Home, and my Children at play!
Tis this makes my Bonnet set light on my brow,
Gives my sinews their strength and my bosom its glow.
The Fields Of Flanders
© Edith Nesbit
Last year the fields were all glad and gay
With silver daisies and silver may;
There were kingcups gold by the river's edge
And primrose stars under every hedge.
On Board The '76
© James Russell Lowell
Our ship lay tumbling in an angry sea,
Her rudder gone, her mainmast o'er the side;
Her scuppers, from the waves' clutch staggering free,
Trailed threads of priceless crimson through the tide;
Sails, shrouds, and spars with pirate cannon torn,
We lay, awaiting morn.
The Idlers Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. April
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
TROUT--FISHING
This morning, through my window, half awake,
I felt the south wind blow; and presently,
With a tumultuous thrill and then a shake,
Vision of Columbus Book 2
© Joel Barlow
High o'er the changing scene, as thus he gazed,
The indulgent Power his arm sublimely raised;
Lines -- Far, Far Away, O Ye
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Far, far away, O ye
Halcyons of Memory,
Seek some far calmer nest
Because Thou Art
© Sri Aurobindo
Because Thou art All-beauty and All-bliss,
My soul blind and enamoured yearns for Thee ;
It bears Thy mystic touch in all that is
And thrills with the burden of that ecstasy.
Brother Artist
© George MacDonald
Brother artist, help me; come!
Artists are a maimed band:
I have words but not a hand;
Thou hast hands though thou art dumb.
Womans Portion
© Madison Julius Cawein
The leaves are shivering on the thorn,
Drearily;
And sighing wakes the lean-eyed morn,
Wearily.
The Deodand
© Anthony Evan Hecht
What are these women up to? Theyve gone and strung
Drapes over the windows, cutting out light
The Lady Of La Garaye - Part IV
© Caroline Norton
Not vacant in the day of which I write!
Then rose thy pillared columns fair and white;
Then floated out the odorous pleasant scent
Of cultured shrubs and flowers together blent,
And o'er the trim-kept gravel's tawny hue
Warm fell the shadows and the brightness too.
