Hope poems
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What Is Prayer?
© James Montgomery
Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Unuttered or expressed;
The motion of a hidden fire,
That trembles in the breast.
The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10
© Publius Vergilius Maro
THE GATES of heavn unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
The Sprits Of Light And Darkness
© Madison Julius Cawein
As from the evil good
Springs like a fire,
As bland beatitude
Wells from the dire,
So was the Chaos brood
Of us the sire.
The Universal Route.
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
As we journey along, with a laugh and a song,
We see, on youth's flower-decked slope,
Credo
© Robert Creeley
Creo que si ... I believe
it will rain
tomorrow ... I believe
the son of a bitch
Constructive
© Heather McHugh
You take a rock, your hand is hard.
You raise your eyes, and there's a pair
of small beloveds, caught in pails.
The monocle and eyepatch correspond.
Within and Without: Part IV: A Dramatic Poem
© George MacDonald
SCENE I.-Summer. Julian's room. JULIAN is reading out of a book of
poems.
Paradise Regain'd: Book I (1671)
© Patrick Kavanagh
I Who e're while the happy Garden sung,
By one mans disobedience lost, now sing
On The Downs
© Algernon Charles Swinburne
A faint sea without wind or sun;
A sky like flameless vapour dun;
A valley like an unsealed grave
That no man cares to weep upon,
Bare, without boon to crave,
Or flower to save.
God Hides His People
© William Cowper
To lay the soul that loves him low,
Becomes the Onlywise:
To hide beneath a veil of woe,
The children of the skies.
Love Is Enough: Songs I-IX
© William Morris
Love is enough: though the World be a-waning
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,
A Death in the Desert
© Robert Browning
Then Xanthus said a prayer, but still he slept:
It is the Xanthus that escaped to Rome,
Was burned, and could not write the chronicle.
Experience
© Edith Wharton
But otherwise Fate wills it, for, behold,
Our gathered strength of individual pain,
When Time’s long alchemy hath made it gold,
Dies with us—hoarded all these years in vain,
Since those that might be heir to it the mould
Renew, and coin themselves new griefs again.
The Angel with the Broken Wing
© Dana Gioia
I am the Angel with the Broken Wing,
The one large statue in this quiet room.
The staff finds me too fierce, and so they shut
Faith’s ardor in this air-conditioned tomb.
If It Were Not for You
© Hayden Carruth
The night winds reach
like the blind breath of the world
in a rhythm without mind, gusting and beating
as if to destroy us, battering our poverty
and all the land’s flat and cold and dark
under iron snow
The Eve Of The Bridal
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
YES! it has come; the strange, o'ermastering hour,
When buoyant hopes, and tender, tremulous fears
Sway the full heart with a divided power,
The flush of sunshine, and the touch of tears!
Misgivings
© Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
When ocean-clouds over inland hills
Sweep storming in late autumn brown,
An Epistle: (To N.A.)
© William Watson
So, into Cornwall you go down,
And leave me loitering here in town.
Pharaoh and the Sergeant
© Rudyard Kipling
Said England unto Pharaoh, "I must make a man of you,
That will stand upon his feet and play the game;
Aeneid, II, 692 - end
© Virgil
As he spoke we could hear, ever more loudly, the noise
Of the burning fires; the flood of flames was coming
