Hope poems
/ page 196 of 439 /
The Fan : A Poem. Book II.
© John Gay
But see, fair Venus comes in all her state;
The wanton Loves and Graces round her wait;
With her loose robe officious Zephyrs play,
And strow with odoriferous flowers the way.
In her right hand she waves the fluttering fan,
And thus in melting sounds her speech began.
To Mr. Murray (Strahan, Tonson Lintot Of The Times)
© George Gordon Byron
Strahan, Tonson Lintot of the times,
Patron and publisher of rhymes,
For thee the bard up Pindus climbs,
My Murray.
Enceladus
© Alfred Noyes
And hungered, yet no comrade of the wolf,
And cold, but with no power upon the sun,
A master of this world that mastered him!
November 1813
© William Wordsworth
Now that all hearts are glad, all faces bright,
Our aged Sovereign sits, to the ebb and flow
Of states and kingdoms, to their joy or woe,
Insensible. He sits deprived of sight,
The Cathedral Porch
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Towering, towering up to the noon--blaze,
Up to the hot blue, up to blinding gold,
Pillar and pinnacle, arch and corbel, scrolled,
Flowered and tendrilled, soar, aspire and raise
The Temple of Fame
© Alexander Pope
In that soft season, when descending show'rs
Call forth the greens, and wake the rising flow'rs;
Mr. William Crowes Address To Her Majesty, Turned Into Metre
© Jonathan Swift
From a town that consists of a church and a steeple,
With three or four houses, and as many people,
There went an Address in great form and good order,
Composed, as 'tis said, by Will Crowe, their Recorder.
The Australian Bell-Bird
© Jean Ingelow
And 'Oyez, Oyez' following after me
On my great errand to the sundown went.
Lost, lost, and lost, whenas the cross road flee
Up tumbled hills, on each for eyes attent
A carriage creepeth.
Elegy
© Chidiock Tichborne
My prime of youth is but a frost of cares,
My feast of joy is but a dish of pain,
My crop of corn is but a field of tares,
And all my good is but vain hope of gain;
The day is past, and yet I saw no sun,
And now I live, and now my life is done.
Epistle To A Friend, In Answer To Some Lines Exhorting The Author To Be Cheerful, And To Banish Care
© George Gordon Byron
'OH! banish care'--such ever be
The motto of thy revelry!
Perchance of mine, when wassail nights
Renew those riotous delights,
The Home Builders
© Edgar Albert Guest
The world is filled with bustle and with selfishness and greed,
It is filled with restless people that are dreaming of a deed.
Charms of Precedence - A Tale
© William Shenstone
"Sir, will you please to walk before?"-
"No, pray, Sir-you are next the door."-
A Sonnet
© James Kenneth Stephen
Two voices are there: one is of the deep;
It learns the storm-cloud's thunderous melody,
Now roars, now murmurs with the changing sea,
Now bird-like pipes, now closes soft in sleep:
The Rainbow Of Promise
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In the face of the sun are great thunderbolts hurled,
And the storm-clouds have shut out its light;
But a Rainbow of Promise now shines on the world,
And the universe thrills at the sight.
Henny
© George Ade
REFRAIN
Henny, oh, Henny, come to me,
Across the wet and salty sea.
I'm longing for the happy day
When I can hear my Henny play:
The Thracian Stone
© Katharine Lee Bates
"The faieries gave him the propertie of the Thracian stone; for who toucheth it is exempted from griefe."
The fairies to his cradle came to play their fairy part,
Sun-Dial, In The Churchyard Of Bremhill
© William Lisle Bowles
So passes silent o'er the dead thy shade,
Brief Time; and hour by hour, and day by day,
The pleasing pictures of the present fade,
And like a summer vapour steal away!
