Hope poems
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September On Jessore Road
© Allen Ginsberg
Millions of babies watching the skies
Bellies swollen, with big round eyes
On Jessore Road--long bamboo huts
No place to shit but sand channel ruts
Autumn On Parade
© Millosh Gjergj Nikolla
An oak tree, reflected in the tears of heaven,
Tosses and bleeds in gigantic passion.
"To live! I want to live!" - it fights for breath,
Piercing the storm with cries of grief.
The Paroo
© Henry Lawson
It was a week from Christmas-time,
As near as I remember,
And half a year since, in the rear,
We'd left the Darling timber.
The Oneness Of The Philosopher With Nature
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
I love to see the little stars
All dancing to one tune;
I think quite highly of the Sun,
And kindly of the Moon.
Lemnos Visited
© Leon Gellert
Oh Peace! The Peace I knew. I thought thee dead!
And had not hoped again to see thy smile.
The Squatter, Three Cornstalks, and the Well
© Henry Lawson
THERE WAS a Squatter in the land
So runs the truthful tale I tell
There also were three cornstalks, and
There also was the Squatters Well.
LEnvoi To A Poem On Tolerance
© John Kenyon
Go! little Book, thine own disciple be,
And learn to tolerate those who turn from thee.
By Simon Vallambert. Erasmus
© Thomas Parnell
Here Great Erasmus resteth all of thine
That Death can touch or Monument confine
Thy Hope and Virtue soard ye lofty sky
Round ye wide world thy Fame & Knowledge fly
Those meet rewards above and these below.
Thus seek Erasmus. What has Death to show?
The Sliprails And The Spur
© Henry Lawson
And he rides hard to dull the pain
Who rides from one that loves him best;
And he rides slowly back again,
Whose restless heart must rove for rest.
Australian Engineers
© Henry Lawson
Ah, well! but the case seems hopeless, and the pen might write in vain;
The Never-Never Country
© Henry Lawson
By homestead, hut, and shearing-shed,
By railroad, coach, and track --
By lonely graves of our brave dead,
Up-Country and Out-Back:
To Be Amused
© Henry Lawson
You ask me to be gay and glad
While lurid clouds of danger loom,
And vain and bad and gambling mad,
Australia races to her doom.
On the March
© Henry Lawson
So the time seems come at last,
And the drums go rolling past,
And above them in the sunlight Labour's banners float and flow;
They are marching with the sun,
But I look in vain for one
Of the men who fought for freedom more than fifteen years ago.
Past Carin'
© Henry Lawson
Now up and down the siding brown
The great black crows are flyin',
And down below the spur, I know,
Another `milker's' dyin';
January
© Edith Nesbit
WHILE yet the air is keen, and no bird sings,
Nor any vaguest thrills of heart declare
To An Old Mate
© Henry Lawson
Old Mate! In the gusty old weather,
When our hopes and our troubles were new,
In the years spent in wearing out leather,
I found you unselfish and true --
I have gathered these verses together
For the sake of our friendship and you.
The Precept of Silence
© Lionel Pigot Johnson
I know you: solitary griefs,
Desolate passions, aching hours!
I know you: tremulous beliefs,
Agonised hopes, and ashen flowers!
