Hope poems
/ page 360 of 439 /
My Springs
© Sidney Lanier
In the heart of the Hills of Life, I know
Two springs that with unbroken flow
Forever pour their lucent streams
Into my soul's far Lake of Dreams.
Once More I Put My Bonnet On
© Joseph Howe
A finer form, a fairer face
Ne'er bent before the stole,
With more restraint, no spotless lace
Did firmer orbs control,
I shine, the Beauty of the place,
And yet I look all soul.
Delos
© Richard Monckton Milnes
Though Syra's rock was passed at morn,
The wind so faintly arched the sail,
That ere to Delos we were borne,
The autumn day began to fail,
And only in Diana's smiles
We reached the bay between the isles.
Hymns Of The Marshes.
© Sidney Lanier
I have waked, I have come, my beloved! I might not abide:
I have come ere the dawn, O beloved, my live-oaks, to hide
In your gospelling glooms, -- to be
As a lover in heaven, the marsh my marsh and the sea my sea.
From The Flats.
© Sidney Lanier
What heartache -- ne'er a hill!
Inexorable, vapid, vague and chill
The drear sand-levels drain my spirit low.
With one poor word they tell me all they know;
Corn
© Sidney Lanier
I wander to the zigzag-cornered fence
Where sassafras, intrenched in brambles dense,
Contests with stolid vehemence
The march of culture, setting limb and thorn
As pikes against the army of the corn.
Slowly the Black Earth Gains
© George Santayana
Slowly the black earth gains upon the yellow,
And the caked hill-side is ribbed soft with furrows.
Turn now again, with voice and staff, my ploughman,
Guiding thy oxen.
Acknowledgment.
© Sidney Lanier
I.O Age that half believ'st thou half believ'st,
Half doubt'st the substance of thine own half doubt,
And, half perceiving that thou half perceiv'st,
Stand'st at thy temple door, heart in, head out!
A Song Of The Future.
© Sidney Lanier
Sail fast, sail fast,
Ark of my hopes, Ark of my dreams;
Sweep lordly o'er the drowned Past,
Fly glittering through the sun's strange beams;
A Song Of Eternity In Time
© Sidney Lanier
Once, at night, in the manor wood
My Love and I long silent stood,
Amazed that any heavens could
Decree to part us, bitterly repining.
A Florida Sunday.
© Sidney Lanier
From cold Norse caves or buccaneer Southern seas
Oft come repenting tempests here to die;
Bewailing old-time wrecks and robberies,
They shrive to priestly pines with many a sigh,
A Birthday Song. To S. G.
© Sidney Lanier
For ever wave, for ever float and shine
Before my yearning eyes, oh! dream of mine
Wherein I dreamed that time was like a vine,
The Green Above The Red
© Thomas Osborne Davis
Full often when our fathers saw the Red above the Green,
They rose in rude but fierce array, with sabre, pike and _scian_,
And over many a noble town, and many a field of dead,
They proudly set the Irish Green above the English Red.
Hen's Nest
© John Clare
Among the orchard weeds, from every search,
Snugly and sure, the old hen's nest is made,
Who cackles every morning from her perch
To tell the servant girl new eggs are laid;
Written at Dropmore
© Samuel Rogers
Grenville, to thee my gratitude is due
For many an hour of studious musing here,
Peace
© Margaret Widdemer
ALL my days are clear again and gentle with forgetting,
Mornings cool with graciousness of time passed stilly by.
Evening sweet with call of birds and lilac-rose sun-setting,
And starshine does not hurt my heart nor night-winds make me cry.
The Mores
© John Clare
Far spread the moorey ground a level scene
Bespread with rush and one eternal green
That never felt the rage of blundering plough
Though centurys wreathed spring's blossoms on its brow
The Landrail
© John Clare
How sweet and pleasant grows the way
Through summer time again
While Landrails call from day to day
Amid the grass and grain
The Instinct Of Hope
© John Clare
Is there another world for this frail dust
To warm with life and be itself again?
Something about me daily speaks there must,
And why should instinct nourish hopes in vain?
