Hope poems
/ page 374 of 439 /
A Farewell
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
With all my will, but much against my heart,
We two now part.
My Very Dear,
Our solace is, the sad road lies so clear.
The Fir-Tree and the Brook
© Helen Hunt Jackson
The Fir-Tree looked on stars, but loved the Brook!
"O silver-voiced! if thou wouldst wait,
My love can bravely woo." All smiles forsook
The brook's white face. "Too late!
New Year's Morning
© Helen Hunt Jackson
Only a night from old to new!
Never a night such changes brought.
The Old Year had its work to do;
No New Year miracles are wrought.
Black Stone On Top Of Nothing
© Philip Levine
Still sober, César Vallejo comes home and finds a black ribbon
around the apartment building covering the front door.
He puts down his cane, removes his greasy fedora, and begins
to untangle the mess. His neighbors line up behind him
The Red Shirt
© Philip Levine
"...his poems that no one reads anymore become dust, wind, nothing,
like the insolent colored shirt he bought to die in."
-Vargas Llosa
I Sing The Body Electric
© Philip Levine
People sit numbly at the counter
waiting for breakfast or service.
Today it's Hartford, Connecticut
more than twenty-five years after
Night Thoughts Over A Sick Child
© Philip Levine
Numb, stiff, broken by no sleep,
I keep night watch. Looking for
signs to quiet fear, I creep
closer to his bed and hear
An Ending
© Philip Levine
Early March.
The cold beach deserted. My kids
home in a bare house, bundled up
and listening to rock music
The Manuscript of Saint Alexius
© Augusta Davies Webster
But, when my father thought my words took shape
of other than boy's prattle, he grew grave,
and answered me "Alexius, thou art young,
and canst not judge of duties; but know this
thine is to serve God, living in the world."
Late Light
© Philip Levine
Rain filled the streets
once a year, rising almost
to door and window sills,
battering walls and roofs
While History's Muse
© Thomas Moore
While History's Muse the memorial was keeping
Of all that the dark hand of Destiny weaves,
Beside her the Genius of Erin stood weeping,
For hers was the story that blotted the leaves.
While Gazing on the Moon's Light
© Thomas Moore
While gazing on the moon's light,
A moment from her smile I turn'd,
To look at orbs that, more bright,
In lone and distant glory burn'd.
Whene'er I See Those Smiling Eyes
© Thomas Moore
Whene'er I see those smiling eyes,
So full of hope, and joy, and light,
As if no cloud could ever rise,
To dim a heaven so purely bright --
Fears And Scruples
© Robert Browning
Here's my case. Of old I used to love him.
This same unseen friend, before I knew:
Dream there was none like him, none above him,--
Wake to hope and trust my dream was true.
When First I Met Thee
© Thomas Moore
When first I met thee, warm and young,
There shone such truth about thee,
And on thy lip such promise hung,
I did not dare to doubt thee.
Tis Gone, And For Ever
© Thomas Moore
'Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking,
Like Heaven's first dawn o'er the sleep of the dead --
When Man, from the slumber of ages awaking,
Look'd upward, and bless'd the pure ray, ere it fled.
Though Humble the Banquet
© Thomas Moore
Though humble the banquet to which I invite thee,
Thou'lt find there the best a poor bard can command;
Eyes, beaming with welcome, shall throng round, to light thee,
And Love serve the feast with his own willing hand.
The Prince's Day
© Thomas Moore
Though dark are our sorrows, today we'll forget them,
And smile through our tears, like a sunbeam in showers:
There never were hearts, if our rulers would let them,
More form'd to be grateful and blest than ours.
The Irish Peasant to his Mistress
© Thomas Moore
Through grief and through danger thy smile hath cheer'd my way,
Till hope seem'd to bud from each thorn that round me lay;
The darker our fortune, the brighter our pure love burn'd,
Till shame into glory, till fear into zeal was turn'd;
Yes, slave as I was, in thy arms my spirit felt free,
And bless'd even the sorrows that made me more dear to thee.
Sweet Innisfallen
© Thomas Moore
Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well,
May calm and sunshine long be thine!
How fair thou art let others tell --
To feel how fair shall long be mine.
