Hope poems
/ page 277 of 439 /The Swagman and His Mate
© Henry Lawson
I hope theyll find the squatter white,
The cook and shearers straight,
When they have reached the shed to-night
The swagman and his mate.
A Reading Of Life--The Test Of Manhood
© George Meredith
That quiet dawn was Reverence; whereof sprang
Ethereal Beauty in full morningtide.
Another sun had risen to clasp his bride:
It was another earth unto him sang.
The Boy of Egremond
© Samuel Rogers
"Say what remains when Hope is fled?"
She answered, "Endless weeping!"
For in the herdsman's eye she read
Who in his shroud lay sleeping.
In Memoriam
© Ada Cambridge
Life-length of days-the time to work and strive
In his Lord's vineyard; to bring heavenly light
Into the drear, dark places of the earth,
And make them fair and fruitful in His sight.
Fit The Sixth - The Barrister's Dream
© Lewis Carroll
He dreamed that he stood in a shadowy Court,
Where the Snark, with a glass in its eye,
Dressed in gown, bands, and wig, was defending a pig
On the charge of deserting its sty.
An Aspiration.
© Robert Crawford
Music, with the tears in it,
Through my soul is ringing,
Moods like bodies flame and flit
Through the spirit's singing;
Cease To Do Evil Learn To Do Well
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Oh! thou whom sacred duty hither calls,
Some glorious hours in freedom's cause to dwell,
Read the mute lesson on thy prison walls,
"Cease to do evil-learn to do well."
America
© William Cullen Bryant
OH mother of a mighty race,
Yet lovely in thy youthful grace!
The elder dames, thy haughty peers,
Admire and hate thy blooming years.
With words of shame
And taunts of scorn they join thy name.
The Eve Of All-Saints
© Madison Julius Cawein
This is the tale they tell,
Of an Hallowe'en;
This is the thing that befell
Me and the village Belle,
Beautiful Aimee Dean.
To Hope
© Thomas Hood
Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy harp,
And play to me so cheerily;
For grief is dark, and care is sharp,
And life wears on so wearily.
A Vine-Arbour In The Far West
© Jean Ingelow
Laura, my Laura! 'Yes, mother!' 'I want you, Laura; come down.'
'What is it, mother-what, dearest? O your loved face how it pales!
You tremble, alas and alas-you heard bad news from the town?'
'Only one short half hour to tell it. My poor courage fails-
Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.
© Francis Beaumont
MY wanton lines doe treate of amorous loue,
Such as would bow the hearts of gods aboue:
I Would I Were A Careless Child
© George Gordon Byron
I would I were a careless child,
Still dwelling in my highland cave,
The Longest Day
© William Wordsworth
Let us quit the leafy arbor,
And the torrent murmuring by;
For the sun is in his harbor,
Weary of the open sky.
She Shall Not Guess
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Even if I died no sound should tell it her.
Death babbles, but the calm of her dear eyes
In vain would ask, no tell--tale breath should stir
The lips still treasuring a thought unwise.
Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift, D.S.P.D.
© Jonathan Swift
Dear honest Ned is in the gout,
Lies rack'd with pain, and you without:
How patiently you hear him groan!
How glad the case is not your own!
Hezekiah
© Thomas Parnell
From the bleak Beach and broad expanse of sea,
To lofty Salem, Thought direct thy way;
Mount thy light chariot, move along the plains,
And end thy flight where Hezekiah reigns.