Hope poems
/ page 278 of 439 /
Book Ninth [Residence in France]
© William Wordsworth
EVEN as a river,--partly (it might seem)
Yielding to old remembrances, and swayed
Rhoecus
© James Russell Lowell
God sends his teachers unto every age,
To every clime, and every race of men,
¡Torres de Dios Poetas! (With English Translation)
© Rubén Dario
Torres de Dios Poetas!
Pararrayos celestes,
que resistís las duras tempestades,
como crestas escuetas,
como picos agrestes,
rompeolas de las eternidades!
A Rhymed Lesson (Urania)
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Are angel faces, silent and serene,
Bent on the conflicts of this little scene,
Whose dream-like efforts, whose unreal strife,
Are but the preludes to a larger life?
The Introduction
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
Did I, my lines intend for publick view,
How many censures, wou'd their faults persue,
Magnificence
© John Skelton
What I say herke a worde.
Fansy.
Do away I say the deuylles torde.
Counterfet coun.
Properzia Rossi
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Tell me no more, no more
Of my soul's lofty gifts! Are they not vain
The Cōforte of Louers
© Stephen Hawes
The prohemye.
The gentyll poetes/vnder cloudy fygures
Do touche a trouth/and clokeit subtylly
Harde is to cōstrue poetycall scryptures
Requiescat In Pace
© Jean Ingelow
O my heart, my heart is sick awishing and awaiting:
The lad took up his knapsack, he went, he went his way;
And I looked on for his coming, as a prisoner through the grating
Looks and longs and longs and wishes for its opening day.
The Progress Of Refinement. Part I.
© Henry James Pye
Rous'd by those honors cull'd by Glory's hand
To dress the Victor on the Olympic sand,
With active toil each ardent stripling tries
To bind his forehead with the immortal prize;
Hence strength and beauty deck the Grecian race,
And manly labor gives them manly grace.
Colin Clouts Come Home Againe
© Edmund Spenser
Colin Clouts Come Home Againe
THe shepheards boy (best knowen by that name)
The Chant Of The Vultures
© Edwin Markham
We are circling, glad of the battle: we
joy in the smell of the smoke.
The Restoration Of The Works Of Art In Italy
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Vain dream! degraded Rome! thy noon is o'er,
Once lost, thy spirit shall revive no more.
It sleeps with those, the sons of other days,
Who fix'd on thee the world's adoring gaze;
Those, blest to live, while yet thy star was high,
More blest, ere darkness quench'd its beam, to die!
A Hungry Day
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
I MIND him well, he was a quare ould chap,
Come like meself from swate ould Erin's sod;
He hired me wanst to help his harvest in-
The crops was fine that summer, praised be God!
"A Little While I Fain Would Linger Yet."
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A LITTLE while (my life is almost set!)
I fain would pause along the downward way,
Musing an hour in this sad sunset-ray,
While, Sweet! our eyes with tender tears are wet;
A little hour I fain would linger yet.
Sir Thomas Lawrence
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
DIVINEST art, the stars above
Were fated on thy birth to shine;
Oh, born of beauty and of love,
What early poetry was thine!
Tuesday In Easter Week
© John Keble
Thou first-born of the year's delight,
Pride of the dewy glade,
In vernal green and virgin white,
Thy vestal robes, arrayed:
By Hut, Homestead And Shearing Shed,
© Henry Lawson
By hut, homestead and shearing shed,
By railroad, coach and track-
By lonely graves where rest the dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
To where beneath the clustered stars
The dreamy plains expand-
