Hope poems

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The Pine-Apple And The Bee

© William Cowper

The pine-apples, in triple row,

Were basking hot, and all in blow;

A Lost Chance.

© James Brunton Stephens

[IT is stated that a shepherd, who had for many years grazed his flocks

in a district in which a rich tin-mining town in Queensland now stands,

On The Death Of Prince Meshchersky

© Gavrila Romanovich Derzhavin

O, Voice of time! O, metal's clang!

Your dreadful call distresses me,

Maha-Bharata, The Epic Of Ancient India - Book V - Pativrata-Mahatmya - (Woman's Love)

The great _rishi_ Vyasa came to visit Yudhishthir, and advised Arjun,
great archer as he was, to acquire celestial arms by penance and
worship. Arjun followed the advice, met the god SIVA in the guise
of a hunter, pleased him by his prowess in combat, and obtained his
blessings and the _pasupata_ weapon. Arjun then went to INDRA'S
heaven and obtained other celestial arms.

The White Doe Of Rylstone, Or, The Fate Of The Nortons - Canto Fourth

© William Wordsworth

'Tis night: in silence looking down,
The Moon, from cloudless ether, sees
A Camp, and a beleaguered Town,
And Castle, like a stately crown

The Loving Shepherdess

© Robinson Jeffers

She dreamed that a two-legged whiff of flame
Rose up from the house gable-peak crying, "Oh! Oh!"
And doubled in the middle and fled away on the wind
Like music above the bee-hives.

Stanzas For Music: They Say That Hope Is Happiness

© George Gordon Byron

They say that Hope is happiness;
But genuine Love must prize the past,
And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless:
They rose the first--they set the last;

The Poet's Dead

© Mikhail Lermontov

He's slain - and taken by the grave
Like that unknown, but happy bard,
Victim of jealousy wild,
Of whom he sang with wondrous power,
Struck down, like him, by an unyielding hand.

Hyperion. Book I

© John Keats

Deep in the shady sadness of a vale

Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,

Songs Written to Welsh Airs

© Amelia Opie

How fondly I gaze on the fast falling-leaves,
That mark, as I wander, the summer's decline;
And then I exclaim, while my conscious heart heaves,
"Thus early to droop and to perish be mine!"

The Stranded Ship: (The Vincennes)

© Henry Lawson

TWAS the glowing log of a picnic fire where a red light should not be,
Or the curtained glow of a sick room light in a window that faced the sea.
But the Manly lights seemed the Sydney lights, and the bluffs as the Heads were seen;
And the Manly beach was the channel thenand the captain steered between.

It's a Boy

The doctor leads a busy life, he wages war with death;
Long hours he spends to help the one who's fighting hard for breath;
He cannot call his time his own, nor share in others' fun,
His duties claim him through the night when others' work is done.
And yet the doctor seems to be God's messenger of joy,
Appointed to announce this news of gladness: "It's a boy!"

Cock-Crowing

Father of lights! what sunny seed,
What glance of day hast Thou confined
Into this bird? To all the breed
This busy ray Thou hast assigned;
Their magnetism works all night,
And dreams of paradise and light.

Satyr I. A Letter To A Friend. On Poets.

Poets are bound by ye severest rules,

the great ones must be mad, ye little all are fools,

Farewell To J. R. Lowell

FAREWELL, for the bark has her breast to the tide,
And the rough arms of Ocean are stretched for his bride;
The winds from the mountain stream over the bay;
One clasp of the hand, then away and away!