Hope poems

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The Rose: A Ballad

© James Russell Lowell

I

In his tower sat the poet

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Dedication

© Caroline Norton

ONCE more, my harp! once more, although I thought
Never to wake thy silent strings again,
A wandering dream thy gentle chords have wrought,
And my sad heart, which long hath dwelt in pain,
Soars, like a wild bird from a cypress bough,
Into the poet's Heaven, and leaves dull grief below!

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Waiting For The May

© Denis Florence MacCarthy

Ah! my heart is weary waiting,

Waiting for the May—

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Sonnet VI. To Hope

© Charlotte Turner Smith

OH, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes.
How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn?
For me wilt thou renew the wither'd rose,
And clear my painful path of pointed thorn?

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The Dawn Wind

© Rudyard Kipling

So do the cows in the field. They graze for an hour and lie down,
 Dozing and chewing the cud; or a bird in the ivy wakes,
Chirrups one note and is still, and the restless Wind stares on,
 Fidgeting far down the road, till, softly, the darkness breaks.

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Tale XIX

© George Crabbe

THE CONVERT.

Some to our Hero have a hero's name

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Pharsalia - Book IV: Caesar In Spain. War In The Adriatic Sea. Death Of Curio.

© Marcus Annaeus Lucanus

Should mix with ours, the vanquished.  Destiny
Has run for us its course: one boon I beg;
Bid not the conquered conquer in thy train."

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The Light

© Henry Cuyler Bunner

And I, remaining here and waiting long,
And all enfolded in my sorrow’s night,
Who not on earth again her face may see,—
For even Memory does her likeness wrong,—
Am blind and hopeless, only for this light —
This light, this light, through all the years to be.

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Encouragement

© Madison Julius Cawein

To help our tired hope to toil,
  Lo! have we not the council here
  Of trees, that to all hope appear
  As sermons of the soil?

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About May

© Wilcox Ella Wheeler

One night Nurse Sleep held out her hand

To tired little May.

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The pilgrimage to Mecca

© George Canning

What holy rites Mohammed's laws ordain,


What various duties bind his faithful train,-

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Translation Of The Romaic Song

© George Gordon Byron


I enter thy garden of roses,

  Beloved and fair Haidée,

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Songs In The Masque Of Alfred: To Alfred

© James Thomson

First Spirit.
Hear, Alfred, father of the state,
  Thy genius Heaven's high will declare!
What proves the hero truly great,
  Is never, never to despair:
  Is never to despair.

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The Clock

© Francis Scarfe

Far away is one who now is sleeping

In the same world and the same darkness,

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The Appeasement Of Demeter

© George Meredith

I

Demeter devastated our good land,

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An Ode To The King, At His Returning From Scotland To The Queen, After His Coronation There

© Sir Henry Wotton

Rouse up thy self, my gentle Muse,
Though now our green conceits be gray,
And yet once more do not refuse
To take thy Phrygian Harp, and play
In honour of this chearful Day.

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To My Lord Buckhurst, Very Young, Playing With A Cat

© Matthew Prior

The amorous youth, whose tender breast

Was by his darling Cat possest,

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Lament.

© Arthur Henry Adams

PEACE, your little child is dead:
Peace, I cannot weep with you;
I have no more tears to shed;
I have mourned my baby too —

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A Lament For The Princes Of Tyrone And Tyrconnel

© James Clarence Mangan

O WOMAN of the piercing wail, 

Who mournest o’er yon mound of clay 

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A College Career

© Robert Fuller Murray

I
When one is young and eager,
  A bejant and a boy,
Though his moustache be meagre,