Hope poems
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The Resurrection
© Giacomo Leopardi
I thought I had forever lost,
Alas, though still so young,
The tender joys and sorrows all,
That unto youth belong;
Thy Beauty Fades
© Jones Very
Thy beauty fades and with it too my love,
For 'twas the self-same stalk that bore its flower;
Daniel Henry Deniehy
© Henry Kendall
TAKE the harp, but very softly for our brother touch the strings:
Wind and wood shall help to wail him, waves and mournful mountain-springs.
The Wounded
© John Le Gay Brereton
Stupidity and Selfishness and Fear,
Who hold enslaved the intellect of Man,
Have found their victims here.
To a Lady Before Marriage
© Thomas Tickell
Oh! form'd by Nature, and refin'd by Art,
With charms to win, and sense to fix the heart!
In War-Time: An Aspiration Of The Spirit
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Lord Jesus, as a little child,
Upon some high ascension day
When a great people goes to pay
Allegiance, and the tumult wild
Conductor Bradley
© John Greenleaf Whittier
CONDUCTOR BRADLEY, (always may his name
Be said with reverence!) as the swift doom came,
Smitten to death, a crushed and mangled frame,
Dear Old London
© Eugene Field
When I was broke in London in the fall of '89,
I chanced to spy in Oxford Street this tantalizing sign,
"A Splendid Horace cheap for Cash!" Of course I had to look
Upon the vaunted bargain, and it was a noble book!
Gunnar's Howe Above The House At Lithend
© William Morris
Ye who have come oer the sea
to behold this grey minster of lands,
English Eclogues II - The Grandmother's Tale
© Robert Southey
JANE.
Harry! I'm tired of playing. We'll draw round
The fire, and Grandmamma perhaps will tell us
One of her stories.
A Relapse
© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
I thought that I had done with fleshly things,
That in the azure of high thought my soul
Had learned to fly on less substantial wings
To a new Heaven, a sublimer goal.
The Prophecy Of Famine
© Charles Churchill
Still have I known thee for a silly swain;
Of things past help, what boots it to complain?
Nothing but mirth can conquer fortune's spite;
No sky is heavy, if the heart be light:
Patience is sorrow's salve: what can't be cured,
So Donald right areads, must be endured.
The Old Play
© Kenneth Slessor
I
IN an old play-house, in an old play,
In an old piece that has been done to death,
We dance, kind ladies, noble friends.
To the Right Honourable William, Earl of Dartmouth
© Phillis Wheatley
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
Faith
© Ada Cambridge
Let go the myths and creeds of groping men.
This clay knows naught - the Potter understands.
I own that Power divine beyond my ken,
And still can leave me in His shaping hands.
But, O my God, that madest me to feel,
Forgive the anguish of the turning wheel!
A Sing-Song
© Jessie Pope
" We met,
'Twas in a crowd,
And we thought they would shun us.
We stormed ;
They would not budge,
But they started to gun us.
The Lady of the Lake: Canto III. - The Gathering
© Sir Walter Scott
I.
Time rolls his ceaseless course. The race of yore,
Who danced our infancy upon their knee,
And told our marvelling boyhood legends store
What Sayest Thou, Traveller
© Paul Verlaine
What sayst thou, traveller, of all thou saw'st afar?
On every tree hangs boredom, ripening to its fall,
Didst gather it, thou smoking yon thy sad cigar,
Black, casting an incongruous shadow on the wall?
Elegiac Feelings American
© Gregory Corso
Aye, what happened to you, dear friend, compassionate friend,
is what is happening to everyone and thing of
planet the clamorous sadly desperate planet now
one voice less. . . expendable as the wind. . . gone,
and who'll now blow away the awful miasma of
sick, sick and dying earthflesh-soul America
