Hope poems
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298. Prologue spoken at the Theatre of Dumfries
© Robert Burns
For our sincere, tho haply weak endeavours,
With grateful pride we own your many favours;
And howsoeer our tongues may ill reveal it,
Believe our glowing bosoms truly feel it.
385. SongAuld Rob Morris
© Robert Burns
THERES Auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen,
Hes the King o gude fellows, and wale o auld men;
He has gowd in his coffers, he has owsen and kine,
And ae bonie lass, his dautie and mine.
231. Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry
© Robert Burns
WHEN Nature her great master-piece designd,
And framd her last, best work, the human mind,
Her eye intent on all the mazy plan,
She formd of various parts the various Man.
212. SongRaving Winds Around her Blowing
© Robert Burns
RAVING winds around her blowing,
Yellow leaves the woodlands strowing,
By a river hoarsely roaring,
Isabella strayd deploring
538. SongNow Spring has clad the grove in green
© Robert Burns
NOW spring has clad the grove in green,
And strewd the lea wi flowers;
The furrowd, waving corn is seen
Rejoice in fostering showers.
494. SongFarewell thou stream that winding flows
© Robert Burns
FAREWELL, thou stream that winding flows
Around Elizas dwelling;
O memry! spare the cruel thoes
Within my bosom swelling.
The Monks Of Basle
© John Hay
I tore this weed from the rank, dark soil
Where it grew in the monkish time,
I trimmed it close and set it again
In a border of modern rhyme.
534. SongFragmentWhy tell the lover
© Robert Burns
WHY, why tell thy lover
Bliss he never must enjoy?
Why, why undeceive him,
And give all his hopes the lie?
The Beauteous Terrorist
© Sir Henry Parkes
Soft as the morning's pearly light,
Where yet may rise the thunder-cloud,
Her gentle face was ever bright
With noble thought and purpose proud.
257. Ode on the Departed Regency Bill
© Robert Burns
Then know this truth, ye Sons of Men!
(Thus ends thy moral tale,)
Your darkest terrors may be vain,
Your brightest hopes may fail.
January
© John Payne
THIS is the bitter birth-month of the year.
The sun looms large against the leaden sky,
The Pang More Sharp Than All. An Allegory
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
I.
He too has flitted from his secret nest,
Hope's last and dearest child without a name!--
Has flitted from me, like the warmthless flame,
83. The Cotters Saturday Night
© Robert Burns
MY lovd, my honourd, much respected friend!
No mercenary bard his homage pays;
With honest pride, I scorn each selfish end,
My dearest meed, a friends esteem and praise:
The Old Professor
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
See, there he goes, a-pulling his long beard;
With frowning brow, and far and absent gaze,
554. SongA Health to ane I loe dear
© Robert Burns
ChorusHeres a health to ane I loe dear,
Heres a health to ane I loe dear;
Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet,
And soft as their parting tearJessy.
The Choice
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
This Consul Casementhe who heard the cry
Of stricken peopleand who in his fight
Butterflies
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
O child of Joy! What idle life is thine!
Thou, in these meadows, while thy skies are blue,
And while thy joys are new to thee like wine,
Chasest mad butterflies as children do.
And lo, thou turnest from them to repine,
Because it was not love thou didst pursue.
Written at the Request of a Gentleman to Whom a Lady Had Given a Sprig of Myrtle
© Samuel Johnson
What hopes - what terrors does this gift create?
Ambiguous emblem of uncertain fate.
The Broken Tower
© Hart Crane
The bell-rope that gathers God at dawn
Dispatches me as though I dropped down the knell
Of a spent day - to wander the cathedral lawn
From pit to crucifix, feet chill on steps from hell.
