Hope poems
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The Aged Patriarch
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Of life's past woes, the fading trace
Hath given that aged patriarch's face
Expression, holy, deep, resign'd,
The calm sublimity of mind.
Human Life
© Samuel Rogers
An hour like this is worth a thousand passed
In pomp or ease - 'Tis present to the last!
Years glide away untold - 'Tis still the same!
As fresh, as fair as on the day it came!
The Curse Of The Wandering Foot
© James Whitcomb Riley
All hope of rest withdrawn me?--
What dread command hath put
Thespis: Act II
© William Schwenck Gilbert
Jupiter, Aged Diety
Apollo, Aged Diety
Mars, Aged Diety
Diana, Aged Diety
Mercury
Peace And Dunkirk
© Jonathan Swift
Spite of Dutch friends and English foes,
Poor Britain shall have peace at last:
Holland got towns, and we got blows;
But Dunkirk's ours, we'll hold it fast.
Sonnet: Le vierge, le vivace
© Stéphane Mallarme
The virginal, living and lovely day
Will it fracture for us with a drunken wing-blow
This solid lost lake whose frosts haunted below
By the transparent glacier of flights not made?
To The Right Honourable John Earl Of Orrery, At Bath, After The Death Of The Late Earl.
© Mary Barber
'Tis said, for ev'ry common Grief
The Muses can afford Relief:
And, surely, on that heav'nly Train
A Boyle can never call in vain.
Fulfilment
© James Brunton Stephens
We cried, " How long ! " We sighed, " Not yet; "
And still with faces dawnward set
" Prepare the way," said each to each,
Above The Oxbow
© Sylvia Plath
Here in this valley of discrete academies
We have not mountains, but mounts, truncated hillocks
The Ultimate Trust
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THOUGH in the wine-press of thy wrath divine,
My crushed hopes droop, like crude and worthless must,
That love and mercy, Father! still are thine,
With reverent soul, I trust!
The Liberty Song
© John Dickinson
COME join hand in hand brave Americans all,
And rouse your bold hearts at fair Liberty's call;
No tyrannous acts shall suppress your just claim,
Or stain with dishonour America's name.
To Helen - 1848
© Edgar Allan Poe
I saw thee once &mdash once only &mdash years ago:
I must not say how many &mdash but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Pictures On Enamel
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
When Astraled was lying, like to die
Of love's green sickness, all his bed was strown
With buds of crocus and anemone,
For other flowers yet were barely none,
Written In A Seat At Stoke Park, Near The Vicararage-House, Then Inhabited By The Author, And Comman
© Henry James Pye
Not with more joy from the loud tempest's roar,
The dangerous billow, and more dangerous shore,
Altiora Peto
© George Essex Evans
To each there came the passion and the fire,
The breadth of vision and the sudden light,
And for a moment on an earthly lyre
Quivered a tremor of the Infinite;
Yet to each poet of that deep-browed throng
Twas but the shadow of Immortal Song.
The Flag
© Julia Ward Howe
There's a flag hangs over my threshold, whose folds are more dear to me
Than the blood that thrills in my bosom its earnest of liberty;
And dear are the stars it harbors in its sunny field of blue
As the hope of a further heaven that lights all our dim lives through.
