Hope poems
/ page 95 of 439 /The Painter
© Edgar Albert Guest
When my hair is thin and silvered, an' my time of toil is through,
When I've many years behind me, an' ahead of me a few,
I shall want to sit, I reckon, sort of dreamin' in the sun,
An' recall the roads I've traveled an' the many things I've done,
An' I hope there'll be no picture that I'll hate to look upon
When the time to paint it better or to wipe it out is gone.
The Prince's Progress
© Christina Georgina Rossetti
Till all sweet gums and juices flow,
Till the blossom of blossoms blow,
The long hours go and come and go,
The bride she sleepeth, waketh, sleepeth,
Waiting for one whose coming is slow:
Hark! the bride weepeth.
Easter-Day
© Robert Browning
XXXII.
Then did the Form expand, expand
I knew Him through the dread disguise,
As the whole God within his eyes
Embraced me.
Jack o' the Cudgel
© William Topaz McGonagall
'Twas in the famous town of Windsor, on a fine summer morn,
Where the sign of Windsor Castle did a tavern adorn;
And there sat several soldiers drinking together,
Resolved to make merry in spite of wind or weather.
Sonnet 67: Hope, Art Thou True
© Sir Philip Sidney
Hope, art thou true, or dost thou flatter me?
Doth Stella now begin with piteous eye
The ruins of her conquest to espy:
Will she take time, before all wracked be?
A New Madrigal To An Old Melody
© Alfred Noyes
(It is supposed that Shadow-of-a-Leaf uses the word "clear" in a
more ancient sense of "beautiful.")
On the Death of Stephen Grey, F.R.S.
© Samuel Johnson
The Electrician
Long hast thou borne the burden of the day,
Adjustment
© John Greenleaf Whittier
The tree of Faith its bare, dry boughs must shed
That nearer heaven the living ones may climb;
To A.C.S.
© Mikhail Lermontov
Afar--I fain, so much would tell thee!
List to thee o'er and o'er when near;
To an Antiquated Coquette
© Charles Sackville
Phyllis, if you will not agree
To give me back my liberty,
Theron And Zoe
© Walter Savage Landor
Theron: That, since we sate together lay by day,
And walkt together, sang together, none
Of earliest, gentlest, fondest, maiden friends
Loved you as formerly. If one remain'd
Dearer to you than any of the rest,
You could not wish her greater happiness . .
The Vision Of Augustine And Monica
© Robert Laurence Binyon
Mother, because thine eyes are sealed in sleep,
And thy cheeks pale, and thy lips cold, and deep
In silence plunged, so fathomlessly still
Thou liest, and relaxest all thy will,
Il Y A Cent Ans
© George Meredith
That march of the funereal Past behold;
How Glory sat on Bondage for its throne;
How men, like dazzled insects, through the mould
Still worked their way, and bled to keep their own.
Visit Of Hope To Sydney Cove, Near Botany Bay
© Erasmus Darwin
Where Sydney Cove her lucid bosom swells,
And with wide arms the indignant storm repels;
The Improvisatore, Or, 'John Anderson, My Jo, John'
© Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Eliza. Ask our friend, the Improvisatore ; here he comes. Kate has a favour
to ask of you, Sir ; it is that you will repeat the ballad [Believe me if
all those endearing young charms.-EHC's ? note] that Mr. ____ sang so
sweetly.
By The Grave Of Henry Timrod
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
WHEN last we parted--thy frail hand in mine--
Above us smiled September's passionless sky,
And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pine
Thrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;
The Dead Look
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
LO! in its still, soft-shrouded place,
The pathos of a death-pale face!
I view the marks of mortal care
Time's hopeless sorrows branded there.