Hope poems
/ page 64 of 439 /A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - September
© George MacDonald
1.
WE are a shadow and a shining, we!
Darkness
© George Gordon Byron
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Careless Mathilda
© Ann Taylor
"AGAIN, Matilda, is your work undone!
Your scissors, where are they? your thimble, gone?
Your needles, pins, and thread and tapes all lost;
Your housewife here, and there your workbag toss'd.
The Night-Scene : A Dramatic Fragment.
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Sandoval. You loved the daughter of Don Manrique?
Earl Henry. Loved?
Sandoval. Did you not say you wooed her?
Earl Henry. Once I loved
Official Piety
© John Greenleaf Whittier
A PIOUS magistrate! sound his praise throughout
The wondering churches. Who shall henceforth doubt
That the long-wished millennium draweth nigh?
Sin in high places has become devout,
My Greatest Need is You
© Rabia al Basri
Your hope in my heart is the rarest treasure
Your Name on my tongue is the sweetest word
Reynard The Fox - Part 2
© John Masefield
Down in the village men awoke,
The chimneys breathed with a faint blue smoke;
The fox slept on, though tweaks and twitches,
Due to his dreams, ran down his flitches.
"Violet Beauregarde..."
© Roald Dahl
"Dear friends, we surely all agree
There's almost nothing worse to see
Than some repulsive little bum
Who's always chewing chewing gum.
Yorick
© John Le Gay Brereton
A golden largesse from a store untold
Announced the ruddy days imperial birth,
Questionings
© Peter McArthur
LAUGHTER and Silence for a sword and shield!
O aching heart, what war is this you wage ?
Comfort The Women
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
A Prayer in Time of War
Whence comes the rain that ceaselessly doth fall,
"I hoped, that with the brave and strong..."
© Anne Brontë
I hoped, that with the brave and strong,
My portioned task might lie;
To toil amid the busy throng,
With purpose pure and high.
The Borough. Letter XVII: The Hospital And
© George Crabbe
Govenors
AN ardent spirit dwells with Christian love,
Elegy XII. His Recantation
© William Shenstone
No more the Muse obtrudes her thin disguise,
No more with awkward fallacy complains
How every fervour from my bosom flies,
And Reason in her lonesome palace reigns.
Scenes In London III - The Savoyard In Grosvenor Square
© Letitia Elizabeth Landon
HE stands within the silent square,
That square of state, of gloom;
A heavy weight is on the air,
Which hangs as o'er a tomb.
Parisina
© George Gordon Byron
It is the hour when from the boughs
The nightingale's high note is heard;
Let Them Go
© Wilcox Ella Wheeler
Let the dream go. Are there not other dreams
In vastness of clouds hid from thy sight
That yet shall gild with beautiful gold gleams,
And shoot the shadows through and through with light?
What matters one lost vision of the night?
Let the dream go!!