Hope Poems: Hope Dieth: Hope Liveth - Poem by William Morris

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Hope Dieth: Hope Liveth - Poem by William Morris

Strong are thine arms, O love, & strong
Thine heart to live, and love, and long;
But thou art wed to grief and wrong:
Live, then, and long, though hope be dead!
Live on, & labour thro’ the years!
Make pictures through the mist of tears,
Of unforgotten happy fears,
That crossed the time ere hope was dead.
Draw near the place where once we stood
Amid delight’s swift-rushing flood,
And we and all the world seemed good
Nor needed hope now cold and dead.
Dream in the dawn I come to thee
Weeping for things that may not be!
Dream that thou layest lips on me!
Wake, wake to clasp hope’s body dead!
Count o’er and o’er, and one by one
The minutes of the happy sun
That while agone on kissed lips shone,
Count on, rest not, for hope is dead.
Weep, though no hair’s breadth thou shalt move
The living Earth, the heaven above
By all the bitterness of love!
Weep and cease not, now hope is dead!
Sighs rest thee not, tears bring no ease,
Life hath no joy, and Death no peace:
The years change not, though they decrease,
For hope is dead, for hope is dead.
Speak, love, I listen: far away
I bless the tremulous lips, that say,
“Mock not the afternoon of day,
Mock not the tide when hope is dead!”
I bless thee, O my love, who say’st:
“Mock not the thistle-cumbered waste;
I hold Love’s hand, and make no haste
Down the long way, now hope is dead.
With other names do we name pain,
The long years wear our hearts in vain.
Mock not our loss grown into gain,
Mock not our lost hope lying dead.
Our eyes gaze for no morning-star,
No glimmer of the dawn afar;
Full silent wayfarers we are
Since ere the noon-tide hope lay dead.
Behold with lack of happiness
The master, Love, our hearts did bless
Lest we should think of him the less:
Love dieth not, though hope is dead!”


Comments about Hope Dieth: Hope Liveth by William Morris

  • Gold Star - 702,591 Points Edward Kofi Louis (3/11/2015 4:26:00 AM)

    Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.

    E.K.L.
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Hope Poems
  1. 1. Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
    Emily Dickinson
  2. 2. The Hope Of My Heart
    John McCrae
  3. 3. To Hope
    John Keats
  4. 4. Hope
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  5. 5. Y... In The Dark Of The Night (Poem Abou..
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  6. 6. Evelyn Hope
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  7. 7. Hope
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  8. 8. Hope Your Happy
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  9. 9. Hope Is A Tattered Flag
    Carl Sandburg
  10. 10. Hope Holds To Christ
    Gerard Manley Hopkins
  11. 11. The Instinct Of Hope
    John Clare
  12. 12. Song Of Hope
    Thomas Hardy
  13. 13. Work Without Hope
    Samuel Taylor Coleridge
  14. 14. Bird Of Hope
    Ella Wheeler Wilcox
  15. 15. Hope
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  16. 16. Since Thou Hast Given Me This Good Hope,..
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  17. 17. Dare I Hope?
    Sophia White
  18. 18. Oh, They Have Robbed Me Of The Hope
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  19. 19. Love Without Hope
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  20. 20. Hope Is Not Lost
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  21. 21. Now Let No Charitable Hope
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  22. 22. Sonnets 12: Cherish You Then The Hope I ..
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  23. 23. The Hope Of The Resurrection
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  24. 24. Hope
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  25. 25. Hope Or Hope Against Hope
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  26. 26. One Must Have Hope
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  27. 27. Hope Dieth: Hope Liveth
    William Morris
  28. 28. The Pleasures Of Hope (Excerpt)
    Thomas Campbell
  29. 29. Hope For The Future
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  30. 30. Hope (Just A Thought)
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  31. 31. Enjoy Hope
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  32. 32. Hope
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  33. 33. Lively Hope And Gracious Fear
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  34. 34. When Hope But Made Tranquillity Be Felt ..
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  35. 35. Sonnet Xvi: Delusive Hope
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  36. 36. I Hope
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  37. 37. Hope
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  38. 38. Had I Presumed To Hope
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  39. 39. Sonnet Xxv: False Hope Prolongs
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  40. 40. Hope.
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  41. 41. Lamentations Of Jeremiah Iii: Hope Of Re..
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  42. 42. Don'T Give Up Hope
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  43. 43. 0431 You Couldn'T Make It Up... I Hope...
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  44. 44. All Hope
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  45. 45. 0022 A Dickinsonian Ode To Hope
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  46. 46. Hope
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  47. 47. With Faith And Hope
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  48. 48. Hope
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  49. 49. A Pastoral Ballad Ii: Hope
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  50. 50. Hope Is Good Thing To Hope.
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Hope Poems

  1. The Hope Of My Heart

    "Delicta juventutis et ignorantius ejus, quoesumus ne memineris, Domine." I left, to earth, a little maiden fair, With locks of gold, and eyes that shamed the light; I prayed that God might have her in His care And sight. Earth's love was false; her voice, a siren's song; (Sweet mother-earth was but a lying name) The path she showed was but the path of wrong And shame. "Cast her not out!" I cry. God's kind words come -- "Her future is with Me, as was her past; It shall be My good will to bring her home At last."

  2. Hope

    Hope was but a timid friend; She sat without the grated den, Watching how my fate would tend, Even as selfish-hearted men. She was cruel in her fear; Through the bars, one dreary day, I looked out to see her there, And she turned her face away! Like a false guard, false watch keeping, Still, in strife, she whispered peace; She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. False she was, and unrelenting; When my last joys strewed the ground, Even Sorrow saw, repenting, Those sad relics scattered round; Hope, whose whisper would have given Balm to all my frenzied pain, Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven, Went, and ne'er returned again!

  3. To Hope

    WHEN by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Whene'er I wander, at the fall of night, Where woven boughs shut out the moon's bright ray, Should sad Despondency my musings fright, And frown, to drive fair Cheerfulness away, Peep with the moonbeams through the leafy roof, And keep that fiend Despondence far aloof! Should Disappointment, parent of Despair, Strive for her son to seize my careless heart; When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air, Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart: Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright, And fright him as the morning frightens night! Whene'er the fate of those I hold most dear Tells to my fearful breast a tale of sorrow, O bright-eyed Hope, my morbidfancy cheer; Let me awhile thy sweetest comforts borrow: Thy heaven-born radiance around me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! Should e'er unhappy love my bosom pain, From cruel parents, or relentless fair; O let me think it is not quite in vain To sigh out sonnets to the midnight air! Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head! In the long vista of the years to roll, Let me not see our country's honour fade: O let me see our land retain her soul, Her pride, her freedom; and not freedom's shade. From thy bright eyes unusual brightness shed--- Beneath thy pinions canopy my head! Let me not see the patriot's high bequest, Great Liberty! how great in plain attire! With the base purple of a court oppress'd, Bowing her head, and ready to expire: But let me see thee stoop from heaven on wings That fill the skies with silver glitterings! And as, in sparkling majesty, a star Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud; Brightening the half veil'd face of heaven afar: So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud, Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed, Waving thy silver pinions o'er my head!

  4. Hope Is The Thing With Feathers

    'Hope' is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I've heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me.

  5. Y... In The Dark Of The Night (Poem About Hope, Hope, Hope))

    It is dark, no moon, no light Just darkness, a starless sky The wind blows, the waves break A single firefly passes by Soon the firefly is gone Leaving me in the darkest of nights The tiny fly made me anticipate A sunrise with the finest of lights Bachok, January 2012

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