Hope poems
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The Linnet And The Cat
© Helen Maria Williams
WHEN fading Autumn's latest hours
Strip the brown wood, and chill the flowers,--
The Time Before Death
© Kabir
Friend? hope for the Guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think... and think... while you are alive.
What you call "salvation" belongs to the time
before death.
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - October
© George MacDonald
1.
REMEMBER, Lord, thou hast not made me good.
At Castle Wood
© Emily Jane Brontë
The day is done, the winter sun
Is setting in its sullen sky;
And drear the course that has been run,
And dim the hearts that slowly die.
Hope
© Joseph Rodman Drake
SEE through yon cloud that rolls in wrath,
One little star benignant peep,
To light along their trackless path
The wanderers of the stormy deep.
Application For A Grant
© Anthony Evan Hecht
Noble executors of the munificent testament
Of the late John Simon Guggenheim, distinguished bunch
Lines Written At Norwich On The First News Of Peace
© Amelia Opie
What means that wild and joyful cry?
Why do yon crowds in mean attire
Throw thus their ragged arms on high?
In want what can such joy inspire?
The Question
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
Now here is where I fail to understand,
And put my question in all reverence,
On bended knee with head most lowly bent,
To the All-High, All-Knowing Providence.
To a Very Young Lady
© Edmund Waller
Why came I so untimely forth
Into a world which, wanting thee,
Could entertain us with no worth
Or shadow of felicity?
That time should me so far remove
From that which I was born to love.
Lines: That time is dead for ever, child!
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
That time is dead for ever, child!
Drowned, frozen, dead for ever!
We look on the past
How Long?
© Katharine Lee Bates
How long, O Prince of Peace, how long? We sicken of the shame
Of this wild war that wraps the world, a roaring dragon-flame
Song #9.
© Robert Crawford
In the hour when Day reposes
Like a vision on the sea,
When thought his tired pinion closes,
One with hope and memory,
The Wanderer: A Vision: Canto IV
© Richard Savage
Still o'er my mind wild Fancy holds her sway,
Still on strange visionary land I stray.
Now scenes crowd thick! now indistinct appear!
Swift glide the months, and turn the varying year!
The Giaour: A Fragment Of A Turkish Tale
© George Gordon Byron
No breath of air to break the wave
That rolls below the Athenian's grave,
That tomb which, gleaming o'er the cliff
First greets the homeward-veering skiff
High o'er the land he saved in vain;
When shall such Hero live again?
A Word To Two Young Ladies
© Robert Bloomfield
WHEN tender Rose-trees first receive
On half-expanded Leaves, the Shower;
Hope's gayest pictures we believe,
And anxious watch each coining flower.
The Strange Music
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Other loves may sink and settle, other loves may loose and slack,
But I wander like a minstrel with a harp upon my back,
Though the harp be on my bosom, though I finger and I fret,
Still, my hope is all before me; for I cannot play it yet.
