Hope poems
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Nature in Perfection
© Richard Savage
No Glympse of Joy your Pleasures then convey'd,
Nor Midnight Ball, nor Morning Masquerade.
In vain to crouded Drawing Rooms you run:
The Court a Desart seems without your Son.
Book Thirteenth [Imagination And Taste, How Impaired And Restored Concluded]
© William Wordsworth
FROM Nature doth emotion come, and moods
Of calmness equally are Nature's gift:
The Ring And The Book - Chapter II - Half-Rome
© Robert Browning
All five soon somehow found themselves at Rome,
At the villa door: there was the warmth and light
The sense of life so just an inch inside
Some angel must have whispered One more chance!
Burial
© John Keble
And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her, and said unto
her, Weep not. And He came and touched the bier; and they that
bare him stood still. And He said, Young man, I say unto thee,
Arise.-St. Luke vii. 13, 14.
The Closing Scene
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Who can bring healing to her heart's despair,
Her whole rich sum of happiness lies there! ~ CROLY.
The Reason For Work
© Edgar Albert Guest
Some struggle hard for worldly fame,
Some toil to have an honored name,
My Lady April
© Ernest Christopher Dowson
Say, doth she weep for very wantonness?
Or is it that she dimly doth foresee
Across her youth the joys grow less and less
The burden of the days that are to be:
Autumn and withered leaves and vanity,
And winter bringing end in barrenness.
The Drowned Lover
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
Ah! faint are her limbs, and her footstep is weary,
Yet far must the desolate wanderer roam;
Though the tempest is stern, and the mountain is dreary,
Irene
© James Russell Lowell
Hers is a spirit deep, and crystal-clear;
Calmly beneath her earnest face it lies,
Tristrams End
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Tristram
Isoult, Isoult, thy kiss!
To sorrow though I was made,
I die in bliss, in bliss.
Translation From The Medea Of Euripides
© George Gordon Byron
When fierce conflicting urge
The breast where love is wont to glow,
What mind can stem the stormy surge
Which rolls the tide of human woe?
The Bishop of Rum-Ti-Foo Again
© William Schwenck Gilbert
I often wonder whether you
Think sometimes of that Bishop, who
Despair
© Frances Anne Kemble
Whene'er those forms arise before my sight,
E'en as from hideous visions of the night,
The Courtship Of Miles Standish
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thereupon answered the youth: "Indeed I do not condemn you;
Stouter hearts that a woman's have quailed in this terrible winter.
Yours is tender and trusting, and needs a stronger to lean on;
So I have come to you now, with an offer and proffer of marriage
Made by a good man and true, Miles Standish the Captain of Plymouth!"
Epochs
© Emma Lazarus
Thin summer rain on grass and bush and hedge,
Reddening the road and deepening the green
On wide, blurred lawn, and in close-tangled sedge;
Veiling in gray the landscape stretched between
These low broad meadows and the pale hills seen
But dimly on the far horizon's edge.
The Purgatory Of St. Patrick - Act III
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
LUIS. Oh, that name
Do not mention! do not kill me
By repeating what doth thrill me
To the centre of my frame
As with lightning. Yes, I know
That at length Polonia died.
Sonnet XXX
© Fernando António Nogueira Pessoa
I do not know what truth the false untruth
Of this sad sense of the seen world may own,
The Exiles. 1660
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The goodman sat beside his door
One sultry afternoon,
With his young wife singing at his side
An old and goodly tune.
