Hope poems

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The Camel-Rider

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

There is no thing in all the world but love,
No jubilant thing of sun or shade worth one sad tear.
Why dost thou ask my lips to fashion songs
Other than this, my song of love to thee?

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A Mood

© James Russell Lowell

I go to the ridge in the forest

I haunted in days gone by,

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For my own Monument

© Matthew Prior

AS doctors give physic by way of prevention,
Mat, alive and in health, of his tombstone took care;
For delays are unsafe, and his pious intention
May haply be never fulfill'd by his heir.

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Against A Sickness: To The Female Double Principle God

© Alan Dugan

She said: “I’m god and all

of this and that world and love

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Sonnet X "Were I the Poet-Laureate of the Fairies"

© Henry Timrod

(Written on a very small sheet of note-paper)


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Death, that struck when I was most confiding

© Emily Jane Brontë

Death! that struck when I was most confiding.
In my certain faith of joy to be-
Strike again, Time's withered branch dividing
From the fresh root of Eternity!

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The Seasons: Winter

© James Thomson

OH! bear me then to high, embowering, Shades;
To twilight Groves, and visionary Vales;
To weeping Grottos, and to hoary Caves;
Where Angel-Forms are seen, and Voices heard,
Sigh'd in low Whispers, that abstract the Soul,
From outward Sense, far into Worlds remote.

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The Lonely Life

© Giacomo Leopardi

The morning rain, when, from her coop released,

  The hen, exulting, flaps her wings, when from

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Julian and Maddalo : A Conversation

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
Of Adria towards Venice: a bare strand
Of hillocks, heaped from ever-shifting sand,

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Afternoon At A Parsonage

© Jean Ingelow

Preface.
What wonder man should fail to stay
  A nursling wafted from above,
The growth celestial come astray,
  That tender growth whose name is Love!

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Athens: An Ode

© Algernon Charles Swinburne

ERE from under earth again like fire the violet kindle,  [Str. I.

  Ere the holy buds and hoar on olive-branches bloom,

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Love And Madness

© Thomas Campbell

Hark ! from the battlements of yonder tower
The solemn bell has tolled the midnight hour !
Roused from drear visions of distempered sleep,
Poor Broderick wakes—in solitude to weep !

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Gertrude of Wyoming

© Thomas Campbell

PART IOn Susquehanna's side, fair Wyoming!
Although the wild-flower on thy ruin'd wall,
And roofless homes, a sad remembrance bring,
Of what thy gentle people did befall;

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The Legend of St. Austin and the Child

© Katharine Tynan

St. Austin, going in thought
Along the sea-sands gray,
Into another world was caught,
And Carthage far away.

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The Foggy Dew

© Katharine Tynan

A splendid place is London, with golden store,
For them that have the heart and hope and youth galore;
But mournful are its streets to me, I tell you true,
For I'm longing sore for Ireland in the foggy dew.

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Samson And Delilah

© Edgar Lee Masters

Because thou wast most delicate,
A woman fair for men to see,
The earth did compass thy estate,
Thou didst hold life and death in fee,
And every soul did bend the knee.

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The Children of Lir

© Katharine Tynan

Out upon the sand-dunes thrive the coarse long grasses;
Herons standing knee-deep in the brackish pool;
Overhead the sunset fire and flame amasses
And the moon to eastward rises pale and cool.

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Alfred. Book IV.

© Henry James Pye

  "I come," the stranger said, "from fields of fame,
  A Saxon born, and Aribert my name.
  I come from Devon's shores, where Devon's lord
  Waves o'er the prostrate Dane the British sword.—
  Freedom might yet revisit Britain's coast,
  Did Alfred live to lead her victor host."

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Hope Shines

© Paul Verlaine

Hope shines-as in a stable a wisp of straw.
Fear not the wasp drunk with his crazy flight!
Through some chink always, see, the moted light!
Propped on your hand, you dozed-But let me draw

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The Task: Book II. -- The Time-Piece

© William Cowper

In man or woman, but far most in man,
And most of all in man that ministers
And serves the altar, in my soul I loathe
All affectation. 'Tis my perfect scorn;
Object of my implacable disgust.