Hope poems
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3. SongI dreamd I lay
© Robert Burns
I DREAMD I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
Listning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
360. SongAe fond Kiss
© Robert Burns
AE fond kiss, and then we sever;
Ae fareweel, alas, for ever!
Deep in heart-wrung tears Ill pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans Ill wage thee.
The Child-World
© James Whitcomb Riley
There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows
Cool even now the fevered sight that knows
No more its airy visions of pure joy--
As when you were a boy.
Book Fifth-Books
© William Wordsworth
There was a Boy: ye knew him well, ye cliffs
And islands of Winander!--many a time
At evening, when the earliest stars began
To move along the edges of the hills,
Rising or setting, would he stand alone
Beneath the trees or by the glimmering lake,
105. Despondency: An Ode
© Robert Burns
OPPRESSD with grief, oppressd with care,
A burden more than I can bear,
I set me down and sigh;
O life! thou art a galling load,
178. Impromptu on Carron Iron Works
© Robert Burns
WE cam na here to view your warks,
In hopes to be mair wise,
But only, lest we gang to hell,
It may be nae surprise:
91. The Vision
© Robert Burns
And wear thou thisshe solemn said,
And bound the holly round my head:
The polishd leaves and berries red
Did rustling play;
And, like a passing thought, she fled
In light away. [To Mrs. Stewart of Stair Burns presented a manuscript copy of the Vision. That copy embraces about twenty stanzas at the end of Duan First, which he cancelled when he came to print the price in his Kilmarnock volume. Seven of these he restored in printing his second edition, as noted on p. 174. The following are the verses which he left unpublished.]
362. SongThou Gloomy December
© Robert Burns
ANCE mair I hail thee, thou gloomy December!
Ance mair I hail thee wi sorrow and care;
Sad was the parting thou makes me remember
Parting wi Nancy, oh, neer to meet mair!
Nothing Unusual
© Edgar Albert Guest
They lived together thirty years,
I Through storm and sunshine, weal and woe;
36. Epitaph on James Grieve
© Robert Burns
HERE lies Boghead amang the dead
In hopes to get salvation;
But if such as he in Heavn may be,
Then welcome, hail! damnation.
533. SongForlorn, my love, no comfort here
© Robert Burns
FORLORN, my Love, no comfort near,
Far, far from thee, I wander here;
Far, far from thee, the fate severe,
At which I most repine, Love.
Finality
© Charles Harpur
A HEAVY and desolate sense of life
Is all the Past makes mineand still
A cold contempt of Fortunes strife,
Despite the dread
Of want of bread,
Numbs, clogs like ice, my weary will.
A Remonstrance to the Poet Campbell, on Proposing to Take up His Permanent Residence in London
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Dear Poet of Hope! who hast charmed us so long
With thy strains of home-music, sweet, solemn, and strong;
Our Martrys
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I AM sitting alone and weary,
By the hearth of my darkened room,
And the low wind's miserere,
Makes sadder the midnight gloom.
Jacqueline
© Samuel Rogers
'Twas Autumn; thro' Provence had ceased
The vintage, and the vintage-feast.
The sun had set behind the hill,
The moon was up, and all was still,
Newark Abbey
© Thomas Love Peacock
I gaze, where August's sunbeam falls
Along these grey and lonely walls,
Till in its light absorbed appears
The lapse of five-and-thirty years.
62. Epistle to William Simson
© Robert Burns
Sae, ye observe that a this clatter
Is naething but a moonshine matter;
But tho dull prose-folk Latin splatter
In logic tulyie,
I hope we bardies ken some better
Than mind sic brulyie.
The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy
© William Shenstone
A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR; AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.
Part first.
Hope and Patience
© George MacDonald
An unborn bird lies crumpled and curled,
A-dreaming of the world.
