Hope poems
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Pretence. Part I - Table-Talk
© John Kenyon
The youth, who long hath trod with trusting feet,
Starts from the flash which shows him life's deceit;
Then, with slow footstep, ponders, undeceived,
On all his heart, for many a year, believed;
But hence he eyes the world with sharpened view,
And learns, too soon, to separate false from true.
The Watcher
© Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
THE long road and the low shore, a sail against the sky,
The ache in my heart's core, and hope so hard to die--
Ah me, but the day's long--and all the sails go by!
The Hope Of The Streets
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The still sweet meadows shimmered: and I stood
And cursed them, bloom of hedge and bird of tree,
And bright and high beyond the hunch-backed wood
The thunder and the splendour of the sea.
Elegy On The Death Of Dr. Channing
© James Russell Lowell
I do not come to weep above thy pall,
And mourn the dying-out of noble powers,
The poet's clearer eye should see, in all
Earth's seeming woe, seed of immortal flowers.
Summer - The Second Pastoral; or Alexis
© Alexander Pope
A Shepherd's Boy (he seeks no better name)
Led forth his flocks along the silver Thame,
Eleonora Duse As Magda
© Robert Laurence Binyon
The theatre is still, and Duse speaks.
What charm possesses all,
And what a bloom let fall
On parted lips, and eyes, and flushing cheeks!
England And Spain
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Illustrious names! still, still united beam,
Be still the hero's boast, the poet's theme:
So when two radiant gems together shine,
And in one wreath their lucid light combine;
Each, as it sparkles with transcendant rays,
Adds to the lustre of its kindred blaze.
The Poet's Hope.
© Robert Crawford
The wild hope of the poet finds a home
In the immaterial, as he clothes himself
In visionary raiment far off, where
The echoes of eternity are heard
And the immortal entities appear.
March
© John Payne
MARCH comes at last, the labouring lands to free.
Rude blusterer, with thy cloud-compelling blast,
Autumns Warnings
© Augusta Davies Webster
SOFT voices of the woods, that make
The summer air a harmony,
I've Heard The Rushing
© James Clerk Maxwell
Ive heard the rushing of mountain torrents, gushing
Down through the rocks, in a cataract of spray,
Onward to the ocean;
Swift seemed their motion,
Till, lost in the desert, they dwindled away.
Our Indian Summer
© Oliver Wendell Holmes
You 'll believe me, dear boys, 't is a pleasure to rise,
With a welcome like this in your darling old eyes;
To meet the same smiles and to hear the same tone
Which have greeted me oft in the years that have flown.
Let's Go
© Edgar Albert Guest
"There isn't any business," wailed the sad and gloomy man;
"I haven't made a dollar since the armistice began."
Times Go By Terms
© Robert Southwell
THE lopped tree in time may grow again,
Most naked plants renew both fruit and flower;
The sorriest wight may find release of pain,
The driest soil suck in some moistening shower.
Times go by turns, and chances change by course,
From foul to fair, from better hap to worse.
A Letter ToThe Same Person
© Anne Kingsmill Finch
The Trojan Prince did pow'rful Numbers join
To sing of War; but Love was the Design:
And sleeping Troy again in Flames was drest,
To light the Fires in pitying Dido's Breast.
Miyajima
© Robert Laurence Binyon
All paths lead upward to the sky
In this green isle, which mounts on high
Through slumbrous valleys, veiled in light
From waters dancing blue and bright.
The Rhymers Reply. Incense And Splendor
© Vachel Lindsay
Incense and Splendor haunt me as I go.
Though my good works have been, alas, too few,
On An Old Sepuchral Bas-Relief
© Giacomo Leopardi
WHERE IS SEEN A YOUNG MAIDEN, DEAD, IN THE ACT OF DEPARTING,
TAKING LEAVE OF HER FAMILY.
The Morning Of The Day Appointed For A General Thanksgiving. January 18, 1816
© William Wordsworth
I
HAIL, orient Conqueror of gloomy Night!
Thou that canst shed the bliss of gratitude
On hearts howe'er insensible or rude;
