Inspirational Poems

A Prayer in Time of War an Inspirational poem by Alfred Noyes  America an Inspirational poem by Henry van Dyke
Thou, whose deep ways are in the sea, 
Whose footsteps are not known, 
To-night a world that turned from Thee 
Is waiting at Thy Throne. 

The towering Babels that we raised 
Where scoffing sophists brawl, 
The little Antichrists we praised
The night is on them all. 

The fool hath said . . . The fool hath said. 
And we, who deemed him wise, 
We who believed that Thou wast dead, 
How should we seek Thine eyes? 

How should we seek to Thee for power 
Who scorned Thee yesterday? 
How should we kneel, in this dread hour? 
Lord, teach us how to pray! 

Grant us the single heart, once more, 
That mocks no sacred thing, 
The Sword of Truth our fathers wore 
When Thou wast Lord and King. 

Let darkness unto darkness tell 
Our deep unspoken prayer, 
For, while our souls in darkness dwell, 
We know that Thou art there.
I love thine inland seas, 
Thy groves of giant trees, 
Thy rolling plains; 
Thy rivers' mighty sweep, 
Thy mystic canyons deep, 
Thy mountains wild and steep, 
All thy domains; 

Thy silver Eastern strands, 
Thy Golden Gate that stands 
Wide to the West; 
Thy flowery Southland fair, 
Thy sweet and crystal air,  
O land beyond compare, 
Thee I love best! 
Auld lang syne an Inspirational poem by Robert Burns Battle Hymn of the Republic an Inspirational poem Julia Ward Howe
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne?

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wandered mony a weary fit
Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidled i' the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin' auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught

For auld lang syne.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: 
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; 
He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword: 
His Truth is marching on. 

have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; 
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps; 
an read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps. 
His Day is marching on. 

I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel: 
As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; 
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, 
Since God is marching on.' 

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; 
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment-seat: 
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet! 
Our God is marching on. 

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: 
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, 
While God is marching on. 
Fire and Ice an Inspirational poem by Robert Frost Daffodils an Inspirational poem by William Wordsworth
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favour fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice. 
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling leaves in glee;
A poet could not be but gay,
In such a jocund company!
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.
Free an Inspirational poem by Eugene O Neill Immortality an Inspirational poem by Matthew Arnold
Weary am I of the tumult, sick of the staring crowd, 
Pining for wild sea places where the soul may think aloud. 
Fled is the glamour of cities, dead as the ghost of a dream, 
While I pine anew for the tint of blue on the breast of the old Gulf Stream. 

I have had my dance with Folly, nor do I shirk the blame; 
I have sipped the so-called Wine of Life and paid the price of shame; 
But I know that I shall find surcease, the rest my spirit craves, 
Where the rainbows play in the flying spray, 
'Mid the keen salt kiss of the waves. 

Then it's ho! for the plunging deck of a bark, the hoarse song of the crew, 
With never a thought of those we left or what we are going to do; 
Nor heed the old ship's burning, but break the shackles of care 
And at last be free, on the open sea, with the trade wind in our hair. 
Foil'd by our fellow-men, depress'd, outworn, 
We leave the brutal world to take its way, 
And, Patience! in another life, we say 
The world shall be thrust down, and we up-borne. 

And will not, then, the immortal armies scorn 
The world's poor, routed leavings? or will they, 
Who fail'd under the heat of this life's day, 
Support the fervours of the heavenly morn? 

No, no! the energy of life may be 
Kept on after the grave, but not begun; 
And he who flagg'd not in the earthly strife, 

From strength to strength advancing only he, 
His soul well-knit, and all his battles won, 
Mounts, and that hardly, to eternal life.
H M S Foudroyant an Inspirational poem by Arthur Conan Doyle Free an Inspirational poem by Eugene O Neill
Death is a fisherman, the world we see 
His fish-pond is, and we the fishes be; 
His net some general sickness; howe'er he 
Is not so kind as other fishers be; 
For if they take one of the smaller fry, 
They throw him in again, he shall not die: 
But death is sure to kill all he can get, 
And all is fish with him that comes to net. 
I love all beauteous things, 
I seek and adore them; 
God hath no better praise, 
And man in his hasty days 
Is honoured for them.

I too will something make
And joy in the making! 
Altho' tomorrow it seem' 
Like the empty words of a dream
Remembered, on waking.