Hope poems
/ page 369 of 439 /
Sixth Sunday After Epiphany
© John Keble
There are, who darkling and alone,
Would wish the weary night were gone,
The Deserted Palace
© Robert Laurence Binyon
``My feet are dead, the cold rain beats my face!''
``Courage, sweet love, this tempest is our friend!''
``Yet oh, shall we not rest a little space?
This city sleeps; some corner may defend
The Stranger
© John Clare
When trouble haunts me, need I sigh?
No, rather smile away despair;
For those have been more sad than I,
With burthens more than I could bear;
Aye, gone rejoicing under care
Where I had sunk in black despair.
To A Star
© Frances Anne Kemble
Thou little star, that in the purple clouds
Hang'st, like a dewdrop, in a violet bed;
While Summer Suns O'er the Gay Prospect Play'd
© Thomas Warton
While summer suns o'er the gay prospect play'd,
Through Surrey's verdant scenes, where Epsom spread
'Mid intermingling elms her flowery meads,
And Hascombe's hill, in towering groves array'd,
What the Birds Said
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The birds against the April wind
Flew northward, singing as they flew;
They sang, "The land we leave behind
Has swords for corn-blades, blood for dew."
The Pipes At Lucknow
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Pipes of the misty moorlands,
Voice of the glens and hills;
The droning of the torrents,
The treble of the rills!
The Farewell
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Of A Virginia Slave Mother To Her Daughters Sold Into Southern BondageGone, gone, -- sold and gone
To the rice-swamp dank and lone.
Where the slave-whip ceaseless swings
Where the noisome insect stings
The Eternal Goodness
© John Greenleaf Whittier
O Friends! with whom my feet have trod
The quiet aisles of prayer,
Glad witness to your zeal for God
And love of man I bear.
Snowbound, a Winter Idyl
© John Greenleaf Whittier
To the Memory of the Household It DescribesThis Poem is Dedicated by the Author"As the Spirit of Darkness be stronger in the dark, so Good Spirits, which be Angels of Light, are augmented not only by the Divine light of the Sun, but also by our common Wood Fire: and as the Celestial Fire drives away dark spirits, so also this our fire of Wood doth the same."
Cor. Agrippa, Occult Philosophy, Book I, ch. v.
"Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Our Limitations
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
Eternal Truth! beyond our hopes and fears
Sweep the vast orbits of thy myriad spheres!
From age to age, while History carves sublime
On her waste rock the flaming curves of time,
How the wild swayings of our planet show
That worlds unseen surround the world we know.
Song II
© Mathilde Blind
ALL my heart is stirring lightly
Like dim violets winter-bound,
Quickening as they feel the brightly
Glowing sunlight underground.
Maud Muller
© John Greenleaf Whittier
Maud Muller on a summer's day
Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth
Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry gleee
The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But when she glanced to the far-off town
Hard Times
© Rabindranath Tagore
Music is silenced, the dark descending slowly
Has stripped unending skies of all companions.
Weariness grips your limbs and within the locked horizons
Dumbly ring the bells of hugely gathering fears.
Still, O bird, O sightless bird,
Not yet, not yet the time to furl your wings.
The Soudanese
© William Watson
They wrong'd not us, nor sought 'gainst us to wage
The bitter battle. On their God they cried
Ichabod
© John Greenleaf Whittier
So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn
Which once he wore!
The glory from his gray hairs gone
Forevermore!
Upon Perusing The Forgoing Epistle Thirty Years After Its Composition
© William Wordsworth
SOON did he Almighty Giver of all rest
Take those dear young Ones to a fearless nest;
And in Death's arms has long reposed the Friend
For whom this simple Register was penned.
