Hope poems
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A Tale Of Society As It Is: From Facts, 1811
© Percy Bysshe Shelley
I.
She was an aged woman; and the years
Which she had numbered on her toilsome way
Had bowed her natural powers to decay.
The Stewed Samaritan
© George Ade
Within a house of public entertainment
There sat an ebon slave close at the foot
The First Booke Of Qvodlibets
© Robert Hayman
Though my best lines no dainty things affords,
My worst haue in them some thing else then words.
The Rose-Bush
© Anonymous
There was a rose-bush in a garden growing,
Its tender leaves unfolding day by day;
The sun looked-on, and his down-going
Left it amid the starlit dusk of nights of May.
The Curse of Mother Flood
© Henry Kendall
Wizened the wood is, and wan is the way through it;
White as a corpse is the face of the fen;
How Bateese Came Home
© William Henry Drummond
W'en I was young boy on de farm, dat 's twenty year ago
I have wan frien' he 's leev near me, call Jean Bateese Trudeau
An Epistle To George William Curtis
© James Russell Lowell
Curtis, whose Wit, with Fancy arm in arm,
Masks half its muscle in its skill to charm,
Book First [Introduction-Childhood and School Time]
© William Wordsworth
OH there is blessing in this gentle breeze,
A visitant that while it fans my cheek
Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 1.
© William Cowper
Adam, arise, since I do thee impart
A spirit warm from my benignant breath:
Arise, arise, first man,
And joyous let the world
Embrace its living miniature in thee!
The Freeman
© Ellen Glasgow
A VAGABOND between the East and West,
Careless I greet the scourging and the rod;
I fear no terror any man may bring,
Nor any god.
Twenty Years
© Francis Bret Harte
Beg your pardon, old fellow! I think
I was dreaming just now when you spoke.
The fact is, the musical clink
Of the ice on your wine-goblet's brink
A chord of my memory woke.
The Watches Of The Night
© James Whitcomb Riley
O the waiting in the watches of the night!
In the darkness, desolation, and contrition and affright;
An Interview
© Robert Fuller Murray
I met him down upon the pier,
His eyes were wild and sad,
And something in them made me fear
That he was going mad.
The Fens
© John Clare
Among the tawny tasselled reed
The ducks and ducklings float and feed.
With head oft dabbing in the flood
They fish all day the weedy mud,
And tumbler-like are bobbing there,
Heels topsy turvy in the air.
The Ritualist
© Francis Bret Harte
He wore, I think, a chasuble, the day when first we met;
A stole and snowy alb likewise,--I recollect it yet.
He called me "daughter," as he raised his jeweled hand to bless;
And then, in thrilling undertones, he asked, "Would I confess?"
To John C. Freemont
© John Greenleaf Whittier
THY error, Frémont, simply was to act
A brave man's part, without the statesman's tact,
Brotherhood
© Edwin Markham
The crest and crowning of all good,
Life's final star, is brotherhood;
For it will bring again to Earth
Her long-lost Poesy and Mirth;
The Angel In The House. Book I. Canto XI.
© Coventry Kersey Dighton Patmore
II
This learn'd I, watching where she danced,
Native to melody and light,
And now and then toward me glanced,
Pleased, as I hoped, to please my sight.
Eclogue 1: Meliboeus Tityrus
© Publius Vergilius Maro
TITYRUS
Sooner shall light stags, therefore, feed in air,
The seas their fish leave naked on the strand,
Germans and Parthians shift their natural bounds,
And these the Arar, those the Tigris drink,
Than from my heart his face and memory fade.
