Hope poems
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The Telephone Number
© Vernon Scannell
Searching for a lost address I find,
Among dead papers in a dusty drawer,
A Summons
© John Greenleaf Whittier
MEN of the North-land! where's the manly spirit
Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone?
Sons of old freemen, do we but inherit
Their names alone?
The Negro Mother
© Langston Hughes
Three hundred years in the deepest South:
But God put a song and a prayer in my mouth .
God put a dream like steel in my soul.
Now, through my children, I'm reaching the goal.
Tales Of A Wayside Inn : Part 2. The Musician's Tale; The Ballad of Carmilhan - IV.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
And now along the horizon's edge
Mountains of cloud uprose,
Black as with forests underneath,
Above their sharp and jagged teeth
Were white as drifted snows.
Still Here
© Langston Hughes
I been scared and battered.
My hopes the wind done scattered.
Snow has friz me,
Sun has baked me,
Let America Be America Again
© Langston Hughes
Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let it be the pioneer on the plain
Seeking a home where he himself is free.
The Harp Of Hoel
© William Lisle Bowles
It was a high and holy sight,
When Baldwin and his train,
With cross and crosier gleaming bright,
Came chanting slow the solemn rite,
To Gwentland's pleasant plain.
Ambition
© Aline Murray Kilmer
Kenton and Deborah, Michael and Rose,
These are fine children as all the world knows,
But into my arms in my dreams every night
Come Peter and Christopher, Faith and Delight.
Song Of A Pilgrim-Soul
© Henry Van Dyke
March on, my soul, nor like a laggard stay!
March swiftly on. Yet err not from the way
Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing
© Margaret Atwood
The world is full of women
who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself
if they had the chance. Quit dancing.
Get some self-respect
History of the Twentieth Century (A Roadshow)
© Joseph Brodsky
Ladies and gentlemen and the day!
All ye made of sweet human clay!
Let me tell you: you are o'kay.
Contra Spem Spero!
© Lesia Ukrainka
Away, dark thoughts, you autumn clouds!
A golden spring is here!
Shall it be thus in sorrow and in lamentation
That my youthful years pass away?
The New Moon
© William Cullen Bryant
When, as the garish day is done,
Heaven burns with the descended sun,
'Tis passing sweet to mark,
Amid that flush of crimson light,
The new moon's modest bow grow bright,
As earth and sky grow dark.
Remembrances Of The Renowned Knight, Sir Rowland Cotton, Of Bellaport In Shropshire, Concerning
© William Strode
Had Death a Body, like the Dane's or thine,
Th' adst beene Her death; if humane Eares like mine,
Thy tongues had charm'd them; if a heart to love,
Each quality of thine a dart might prove.
On The Death Of Mrs. Mary Neudham
© William Strode
As sinn makes gross the soule and thickens it
To fleshy dulness, so the spotless white
Of virgin pureness made thy flesh as cleere
As others soules: thou couldst not tarry heere
The True-Blue American
© Delmore Schwartz
Jeremiah Dickson was a true-blue American,
For he was a little boy who understood America, for he felt that he must
On The Death Of Dr. Lancton President Of Maudlin College
© William Strode
When men for injuryes unsatisfy'd,
For hopes cutt off, for debts not fully payd,
For legacies in vain expected, mourne
Over theyr owne respects within the urne,
Healthy Labour.
© Robert Crawford
The charm of labour is health's appetite,
For lack of which the clammy sinew is
A joyless power, and, like a hopeless heart,
Throbs to a sickly tune.
On John Dawson, Butler Of C.C.
© William Strode
Dawson the Butler's dead: Although I think
Poets were ne'er infusde with single drinke
Ile spend a farthing muse; some watry verse
Will serve the turne to cast upon his hearse;
