Hope poems
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On This Day I Complete My Thirty-Sixth Year
© George Gordon Byron
The fire that on my bosom preys
Is lone as some volcanic isle;
No torch is kindled at its blaze--
A funeral pile.
The Wanderer's Lament
© Arthur Symons
Why am I fettered with eternal change?
I follow after changeless love, and find
The Victories Of Love. Book II
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
II
From Lady Clitheroe To Mary Churchill
Geraint And Enid
© Alfred Tennyson
Then Enid pondered in her heart, and said:
'I will go back a little to my lord,
And I will tell him all their caitiff talk;
For, be he wroth even to slaying me,
Far liefer by his dear hand had I die,
Than that my lord should suffer loss or shame.'
Shearing's Coming
© David McKee Wright
There's a sound of many voices in the camp and on the track,
And letters coming up in shoals to stations at the back;
And every boat that crosses from the sunny 'other side'
Is bringing waves of shearers for the swelling of the tide.
In Memory
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Home from the wounds of Earth and wasting Time
The marvel of her beauty and morning prime
She has taken, glorious with the dew of youth
Still on her thoughts, those thoughts that from her eyes
The Creek of the Four Graves [Early Version]
© Charles Harpur
And feeling thus by habit, that poor man
Though the black shadow of untimely death
Hopelessly thickened under every stroke,
Upstruggled desperate, until at last,
One, as in mercy, gave him to the dust,
With all his sorrows.
A Boston Ballad
© Walt Whitman
Clear the way there, Jonathan!
Way for the President's marshal! Way for the government cannon!
Way for the Federal foot and dragoons-and the apparitions copiously
tumbling.
Sappho I
© Sara Teasdale
MIDNIGHT, and in the darkness not a sound,
So, with hushed breathing, sleeps the autumn night;
Only the white immortal stars shall know,
Here in the house with the low-lintelled door,
Not A Word
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Love, my heart is faint with waiting,
Faint with hope and joy deferred,
All night long at this sad grating,
Sleepless like a prisoned bird,
Vanitas Vanitatum, Omnia Vanitas
© Anne Brontë
In all we do, and hear, and see,
Is restless Toil and Vanity.
While yet the rolling earth abides,
Men come and go like ocean tides;
An Indian-Summer Reverie
© James Russell Lowell
What visionary tints the year puts on,
When failing leaves falter through motionless air
Will
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YOUR face, my boy, when six months old,
We propped you laughing in a chair,
And the sun-artist caught the gold
Which rippled o'er your waving hair!
The Holy Innocents
© John Keble
Say, ye celestial guards, who wait
In Bethlehem, round the Saviour's palace gate,
Forest Silence
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Where she reclines
In a rock's cup,
Smooth, tawny--mossed,
Under tall pines,
Her eyes look up,
Her gaze is lost.
Westward
© Robert Laurence Binyon
I found my Love among the fern. She slept.
My shadow stole across her, as I stept
More lightly and slowly, seeing her pillowed so
In the short--turfed and shelving green hollow
An Invitation
© Alfred Domett
Well! if Truth be all welcomed with hardy reliance,
All the lovely unfoldings of luminous Science,
A Psalm Of Patience
© Joseph Furphy
O kid! with face of healthy tan,
With lunch-bag, books and slate;
Hymns to the Night : 3
© Novalis
Once when I was shedding bitter tears, when, dissolved in pain, my hope was melting away, and I stood alone by the barren mound which in its narrow dark bosom hid the vanished form of my life - lonely as never yet was lonely man, driven by anxiety unspeakable - powerless, and no longer anything but a conscious misery
