Hope poems
/ page 62 of 439 /
Mrs. Effingham's Swan Song
© Muriel Stuart
I am growing old: I have kept youth too long,
But I dare not let them know it now.
What Would It Be?
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Now what were the words of Jesus,
And what would He pause and say,
Assassination
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
O BLINDED readers of the scroll of time,
Think ye that freedom yields her hand to crime?
Or the fair whiteness of her virginal bud
Of heavenly hope, would desecrate with blood?
The Creatures In The Lord's Hands
© John Newton
The water stood like walls of brass,
To let the sons of Israel pass;
And from the rock in rivers burst
At Moses' prayer to quench their thirst.
Stellas Birth-Day.1719-20
© Jonathan Swift
All travellers at first incline
Where'er they see the fairest sign
Mountain Pictures
© John Greenleaf Whittier
I. FRANCONIA FROM THE PEMIGEWASSET
Once more, O Mountains of the North, unveil
First Sunday After Christmas
© John Keble
'Tis true, of old the unchanging sun
His daily course refused to run,
The pale moon hurrying to the west
Paused at a mortal's call, to aid
The avenging storm of war, that laid
Seven guilty realms at once on earth's defiled breast.
The Task: Book III. -- The Garden
© William Cowper
As one who, long in thickets and in brakes
Entangled, winds now this way and now that
King Seuen On The Occasion Of A Great Drought
© Confucius
Grand shone the Milky Way on high,
With brilliant span athwart the sky,
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - January
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, what I once had done with youthful might,
Earth
© John Hall Wheelock
Yea, and this, my poem, too,
Is part of her as dust and dew,
Wherein herself she doth declare
Through my lips, and say her prayer.
The Story Of Glaucus The Thessalian
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
Up to the deep founts of the tenderest eyes
That e'er have shone, I think, since in some dell
Of Argos and enchanted Thessaly,
The poet, from whose heart-lit brain it came,
Murmured this record unto her he loved?
Il Cinque Maggio (English)
© Alessandro Manzoni
HE was -- As motionless as lay,
First mingled with the dead,
The Abencerrage : Canto I.
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Lonely and still are now thy marble halls,
Thou fair Alhambra! there the feast is o'er;
And with the murmur of thy fountain-falls,
Blend the wild tones of minstrelsy no more.
The Gadder
© Bert Leston Taylor
Among the folks who write me,
From Frisco to Cape Ann,
Is one from whom I often hear,
And whom, I hope, I sometimes cheer --
The pleasant Traveling Man.
A Garden Idyl
© George Meredith
Next day was told what deeds of night
Were done; the web had vanished quite;
With it the strange opposing pair;
And listless waved on vacant air,
For her adieu to heart's content,
A solitary filament.
Written After Leaving Her At New Burns
© William Cowper
How quick the change from joy to woe!
How chequered is our lot below!
Under The Old Elm
© James Russell Lowell
Placid completeness, life without a fall
From faith or highest aims, truth's breachless wall,
Surely if any fame can bear the touch,
His will say 'Here!' at the last trumpet's call,
The unexpressive man whose life expressed so much.
