Hope poems
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"The Morn That Breaks Its Heart Of Gold"
© Madison Julius Cawein
From an ode "In Commemoration of the Founding of the
Massachusetts Bay Colony."
Zitten Out The Wold Year
© William Barnes
Why, raïn or sheen, or blow or snow,
I zaid, if I could stand so's,
Hermann And Dorothea - II. Terpsichore
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Then the son thoughtfully answer'd:--"I know not why, but the fact is
My annoyance has graven itself in my mind, and hereafter
I could not bear at the piano to see her, or list to her singing."
To Woman
© George Gordon Byron
Woman! experience might have told me,
That all must love thee who behold thee:
Surely experience might have taught
Thy firmest promises are nought:
'The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 3
© Publius Vergilius Maro
WHEN Heavn had overturnd the Trojan state
And Priams throne, by too severe a fate;
Palinode - Autumn
© James Russell Lowell
Still thirteen years: 'tis autumn now
On field and hill, in heart and brain;
The naked trees at evening sough;
The leaf to the forsaken bough
Sighs not,--'_Auf wiedersehen!_'
For An Autograph
© James Russell Lowell
THOUGH old the thought and oft exprest,
'Tis his at last who says it best,
I'll try my fortune with the rest.
Life is a leaf of paper white
Whereon each one of us may write
His word or two, and then comes night.
The Brothers
© William Wordsworth
"THESE Tourists, heaven preserve us! needs must live
A profitable life: some glance along,
Speranza
© Jean Ingelow
England puts on her purple, and pale, pale
With too much light, the primrose doth but wait
To meet the hyacinth; then bower and dale
Shall lose her and each fairy woodland mate.
April forgets them, for their utmost sum
Of gift was silent, and the birds are come.
A Song For Old Age
© Madison Julius Cawein
Now nights grow cold and colder,
And North the wild vane swings,
And round each tree and boulder
The driving snow-storm sings--
Come, make my old heart older,
O memory of lost things!
The Weakling
© Arthur Henry Adams
I AM a weakling. God, who made
The still, strong man, made also me.
The Harpers Story
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
My pretty ladies, mid this Christmas cheer,
Loth though I am to wake a single tear
W'en I Gits Home
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
It's moughty tiahsome layin' 'roun'
Dis sorrer-laden earfly groun',
An' oftentimes I thinks, thinks I,
'T would be a sweet t'ing des to die,
An' go 'long home.
The Freeborn
© Dora Sigerson Shorter
God made the man and bid him multiply,
Replenish the green earth, nor break the die
The Old Village Doctor
© Henry Clay Work
Count the mossy marbles in the graveyard!
Our old doctor and his patients, there they lie.
All regradless of the weather,
They are waiting there together,
For that long-sought "better by-and-by."
De Te
© Adam Lindsay Gordon
A burning glass of burnished brass,
The calm sea caught the noontide rays,
Sermon In A Churchyard
© Thomas Babbington Macaulay
Let pious Damon take his seat,
With mincing step and languid smile,
A Ballad Of Past Meridian
© George Meredith
Last night returning from my twilight walk
I met the grey mist Death, whose eyeless brow
Was bent on me, and from his hand of chalk
He reached me flowers as from a withered bough:
O Death, what bitter nosegays givest thou!
An Armour of proofe, brought from The Tower of Dauid, to fight agaynst Spannyardes
© Roger Cotton
When God of hosts in eighty eight had brought,
an host of men, our Countrey to annoy:
in that distresse the Lord by vs was sought,
whereby our woes were turned then to ioy.
But yet full true to vs may this be sayde,
in your distresse, you onely seeke my ayde.
