Hope poems
/ page 295 of 439 /Concerning Resolution
© Thomas Parnell
Happy the man whose firm resolves obtain
Assisting Grace to burst his sinfull chain
Summer Dawn
© Christopher Pearse Cranch
SOME summer mornings when you've taken tea
Too late the night before perhaps you'll see,
If at some Berkshire farmhouse far away
You chance to wake while yet the sky is gray,
Inscription
© Alaric Alexander Watts
Stranger! if from the crowded walks of life
Thou lovest to stray, and woo fair Solitude
Canto de Esperanza (With English Translation)
© Rubén Dario
Un gran vuelo de cuervos mancha el azul celeste.
Un soplo milenario trae amagos de peste.
Se asesinan los hombres en el extremo Este.
In France I Saw A Hill
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
In France I saw a hill-a gentle slope
Rising above old tombs to greet the gleam
From soft spring skies. Beyond these skies dwells hope,
But those green graves bespeak a broken dream.
The Death Of Hood
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE maimed and broken warrior lay,
By his last foeman brought to bay.
No sounds of battlefield were there--
The drum's deep bass, the trumpet's blare.
A Forecast
© Archibald Lampman
One thing I know: if he be great and pure,
This love, this fire, this beauty shall endure;
Triumph and hope shall lead him by the palm:
But if not this, some differing thing he be,
That dream shall break in terror; he shall see
The whirlwind ripen, where he sowed the calm.
Times Weariness
© Alfred Austin
Slow Time, that carrieth such a monstrous load
From every stage and hostel of the Past,
The Ballad Of Mr. Cooke
© Francis Bret Harte
(LEGEND OF THE CLIFF HOUSE, SAN FRANCISCO)
Where the sturdy ocean breeze
The Prisoners Of Naples
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I HAVE been thinking of the victims bound
In Naples, dying for the lack of air
And sunshine, in their close, damp cells of pain,
Where hope is not, and innocence in vain
Sir Eustace Grey
© George Crabbe
And shall I then the fact deny?
I was--thou know'st--I was begone,
Like him who fill'd the eastern throne,
To whom the Watcher cried aloud;
That royal wretch of Babylon,
Who was so guilty and so proud.
The Voyage Of St. Brendan A.D. 545 - The Buried City
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
Beside that giant stream that foams and swells
Betwixt Hy-Conaill and Moyarta's shore,
And guards the isle where good Senanus dwells,
A gentle maiden dwelt in days of yore.
The Heathen Pass-ee
© Arthur Clement Hilton
Which I wish to remark,
And my language is plain,
That for plots that are dark
And not always in vain,
The heathen Pass-ee is peculiar,
And the same I would rise to explain.
The Black Rock
© John Gould Fletcher
Off the long headland, threshed about by round-backed breakers,
There is a black rock, standing high at the full tide;
Off the headland there is emptiness,
And the moaning of the ocean,
And the black rock standing alone.
The King Of The Plow
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THE sword is re-sheathed in its scabbard,
The rifle hangs safe on the wall;
No longer we quail at the hungry
Hot rush of the ravenous ball,
Hunted Down
© Henry Kendall
Two years had the tiger, whose shape was that of a sinister man,
Been out since the night of escape - two years under horror and ban.