Hope poems
/ page 186 of 439 /
Peruvian Tales: Cora, Tale VI
© Helen Maria Williams
The troops of ALMAGRO and ALPHONSO meet on the plain of CUZCO -. MANCO -CAPAC attacks them by nights-His army is defeated, and he is forced to fly with its scattered remains-CORA goes in search of him- Her infant in her arms-Overcome with fatigue, she rests at the foot of a mountain-An earthquake-A band of Indians fly to the mountain for shelter-CORA discovers her husband-Their interview-Her death -He escapes with his infant-ALMAGRO claims a share of the spoils of Cuzco-His contention with PIZARRO -The Spaniards destroy each other-ALMAGRO is taken prisoner, and put to death-His soldiers, in revenge, assassinate PIZARRO in his palace-LAS CASAS dies-The annual festival of the PERUVIANS -Their victories over the Spaniards in Chili-A wish for the restoration of their liberty-Conclusion.
November In Ireland
© Alice Guerin Crist
November days in Ireland
The skies are dull and grey,
But Oh! The clear strong flame of love,
That burns by night and day.
As swift and bright the whispered prayers fly to the Heavens O'erhead,
From faithful hearts in Ireland, remembering their dead.
London - in Imitation of the Third Satire of Juvenal
© Samuel Johnson
'--Quis ineptae
Tam patiens urbis, tam ferreus ut teneat se?' ~ Juv.
Flight To Nature
© William Gilmore Simms
SICK of the crowd, the toil, the strife,
Sweet Nature, how I turn to thee,
Seeking for renovated life,
By brawling brook and shady tree!
The Death Of President Lincoln
© Joseph Furphy
Now let the howling tempest roar
For Booth can feel its force no more;
Now let the captors bend their steel
Against the form that cannot feel
Their tyranny has spent its hour
And Booth is far beyond their power.
Thoughts In Separation
© Alice Meynell
We never meet; yet we meet day by day
Upon those hills of life, dim and immense:
The good we love, and sleep--our innocence.
O hills of life, high hills! And higher than they,
False February
© John Payne
NOT seldom, whilst the Winter yet is king,
Whilst yet the meads are mute and boughs are bare,
The Wail in the Native Oak
© Henry Kendall
Where the lone creek, chafing nightly in the cold and sad moonshine,
Beats beneath the twisted fern-roots and the drenched and dripping vine;
Thoughts Of Christmas-Day In India
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
IT is Christmas, and the sunshine
Lies golden on the fields,
And flowers of white and purple
Yonder fragrant creeper yields.
The Dance Of The Seven Sins
© Arthur Symons
THE STAGE-MANAGER
It is. Each morning that decays
To midnight ends the world as well,
For the world's day, as that farewell
When, at the ultimate judgment-Stroke,
Heaven too shall vanish in pale smoke.
Epitaph On A Jacobite
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
To my true king I offered free from stain
Courage and faith; vain faith, and courage vain.
Stanzas In Memory Of The Author Of 'Obermann'
© Matthew Arnold
In front the awful Alpine track
Crawls up its rocky stair;
The autumn storm-winds drive the rack,
Close o'er it, in the air.
The Spagnoletto. Act I
© Emma Lazarus
SCENE--During the first four acts, in Naples; latter part of the
fifth act, in Palermo. Time, about 1655.
The Lost Occasion
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Some die too late and some too soon,
At early morning, heat of noon,
Robin Hood And The Butcher
© Andrew Lang
Come, all you brave gallants, and listen awhile,
With hey down, down, an a down,
That are in the bowers within;
For of Robin Hood, that archer good,
A song I intend for to sing.
The Island In The South
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE ship went down at noonday in a cam,
When not a zephyr broke the crystal sea.
We two escaped alone: we reached an isle
Whereon the water settled languidly
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act II
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
PHILIP [aside]. If to find my death I come,
Why precipitate my doom?
But so patient who could be
As to not desire to see
What impends, how dark its gloom?
