Hope poems
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Loves Caprices
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
COME, sweetheart, hear me! I have loved thee well,
God knoweth. Through all these years my holiest thoughts,
Like those pure doves nurtured in antique temples,
Have fluttered ever round thine image fair,
Inscriptions: IV: O Youths And Virgins
© Mark Akenside
O youths and virgins: o declining eld:
O pale misfortune's slaves: o ye who dwell
A day 8 Years Ago (At bachar ager Ekadin)
© Jibanananda Das
It was heard
They took him to the morgue.
Last night in the February dark
When the crescent moon, five days toward full, had set
He'd had the urge to die.
The Borough. Letter III: The Vicar--The Curate
© George Crabbe
THE VICAR.
WHERE ends our chancel in a vaulted space,
Fireflies
© Rabindranath Tagore
My fancies are fireflies,
Specks of living light
twinkling in the dark.
On Hearing that Constantinople Was Swallowed Up by an Earthquake
© Amelia Opie
[A Report, though false, at that time generally believed.]
The Autumn Waste
© Archibald Lampman
There is no break in all the wide grey sky,
Nor light on any field, and the wind grieves,
Spring Comes!
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
The little birds, they do not heed nor care.
The ungracious wind, the branches sear and bare,
Book Of Parables - In The Koran With Strange Delight
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
In the Koran with strange delight
A peacock's feather met my sight:
Ballades II - Of The Book-Hunter
© Andrew Lang
Prince, all the things that tease and please,
Fame, hope, wealth, kisses, cheers, and tears,
What are they but such toys as these,
Aldines, Bodonis, Elzevirs?
Life
© Emile Verhaeren
To see beauty in all, is to lift our own Soul
Up to loftier heights than do chose who aspire
Through culpable suffering, vanquished desire.
Harsh Reality, dread and ineffable Whole,
Distils her red draught, enough tonic and stern
To intoxicate heads and to make the heart burn.
Blasphemy
© Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
The mosques and churches float through our memories,
Prayers devoid of sense or taste echo from their walls.
Never has the heart of god been touched by them,
And yet it beats on amidst the sounds of drums and bells.
The Passing of Scotty
© Henry Lawson
We leave our mark and we play our part
In the nations pregnant days,
And we find a place in the Bushmans heart
Ere we vanish beyond the haze.
Loud Shout The Flaming Tongues Of War
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
TA'N SIONAC AR SRAIDIB AG FAIRE GO CAOCRAC
Loud shout the flaming tongues of war.
A Word To Philosophers
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
COLD philosophers, so apt
With your formulas exacting,
In your problems so enwrapt,
And your theories distracting;
Sunday Next Before Advent
© John Keble
Will God indeed with fragments bear,
Snatched late from the decaying year?
Chinese Poet Among Barbarians
© John Gould Fletcher
The rain drives, drives endlessly,
Heavy threads of rain;
Night-Scene in Genoa
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
He pauses - from the partiarch's brow
There beams more lofty grandeur now;
His reverend form, his aged hand,
Assume a gesture of command,
His voice is awful, and his eye
Fill's with prophetic majesty.
Kiama Revisited
© Henry Kendall
WE STOOD by the window and hearkened
To the voice of the runnels sea-driven,
