Hope poems
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The Heroic Enthusiasts - Part The Second =First Dialogue.=
© Giordano Bruno
MAR. We know that you are not a theologian but a philosopher, and that
you treat of philosophy and not of theology.
The Child Of The Islands - Spring
© Caroline Norton
I.
WHAT shalt THOU know of Spring? A verdant crown
Of young boughs waving o'er thy blooming head:
White tufted Guelder-roses, showering down
Tuesday In Whitsun-Week
© John Keble
"Lord, in Thy field I work all day,
I read, I teach, I warn, I pray,
And yet these wilful wandering sheep
Within Thy fold I cannot keep.
The Last Fence
© William Henry Ogilvie
When the last fence looms up, I am ready
And I hope when the rails of it crack
Naples
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Fold her, O Father, in Thine arms,
And let her henceforth be
A messenger of love between
Our human hearts and Thee.
Mid Atlantic
© Robert Laurence Binyon
If this were all!--A dream of dread
Ran through me; I watched the waves that fled
Pale--crested out of hollows black,
The hungry lift of helpless waves,
A Death in the Bush
© Henry Kendall
For, ere the early settlers came and stocked
These wilds with sheep and kine, the grasses grew
So that they took the passing pilgrim in
And whelmed him, like a running sea, from sight.
The Return Of Peace
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
They could not quell the grieved and shuddering air,
That breathed about me its forlorn despair:
It almost seemed as if stern Triumph sped
To one whose hopes were dead,
And flaunting there his fortune's ruddier grace,
Smote--with a taunt--wan Misery in the face!
In Plaster
© Sylvia Plath
I shall never get out of this! There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
Of Death
© John Bunyan
Death, as a king rampant and stout
The world he dare engage;
He conquers all, yea, and doth rout
The great, strong, wise, and sage.
Fourth Sunday In Lent
© John Keble
When Nature tries her finest touch,
Weaving her vernal wreath,
Mark ye, how close she veils her round,
Not to be traced by sight or sound,
Nor soiled by ruder breath?
To An Old Schoolhouse
© Margaret Elizabeth Sangster
Down by the end of the lane it stands,
Where the sumac grows in a crimson thatch,
A Tale
© John Logan
Where pastoral Tweed, renown'd in song,
With rapid murmur flows;
In Caledonia's classic ground,
The hall of Arthur rose.
The Visit Of Mahmoud Ben Suleim To Paradise
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Perchance the past of man--and thence to draw
From far experience, sanctified by awe
Of God's mysterious ways, some hint to tell
Who of the dead in heaven and who in hell
Dwelt now in endless bliss or endless bale.
The Song Of Hiawatha: Introduction And Vocabulary
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
If still further you should ask me,
Saying, "Who was Nawadaha?
Tell us of this Nawadaha,"
I should answer your inquiries
Straightway in such words as follow.
Ode Recited At The Harvard Commemoration July 21, 1865
© James Russell Lowell
Weak-Winged is Song,
Nor aims at that clear-ethered height
Freedoms
© Gerald Gould
To every hill there is a lowly slope,
But some have heights beyond all height--so high
They make new worlds for the adventuring eye.
We for achievement have forgone our hope,
And shall not see another morning ope,
Nor the new moon come into the new sky.
A Session With Uncle Sidney
© James Whitcomb Riley
Uncle Sidney's vurry proud
Of little Leslie-Janey,
'Cause she's so smart, an' goes to school
Clean 'way in Pennsylvany!
The Battle Of Stamford Bridge
© Robert Laurence Binyon
``Haste thee, Harold, haste thee North!
Norway ships in Humber crowd.
Tall Hardrada, Sigurd' son,
For thy ruin this hath done--
England for his own hath vowed.
