Sympathy Quotes

Hope is a subtle Glutton
He feeds upon the Fair
And yet  inspected closely
What Abstinence is there

His is the Halcyon Table
That never seats but One
And whatsoever is consumed
The same amount remain 

(Poem By Emily Dickinson)

Could Hope inspect her Basis
Her Craft were done
Has a fictitious Charter
Or it has none

Balked in the vastest instance
But to renew
Felled by but one assassin
Prosperity

(Poem By Emily Dickinson)

We speak with the lip, and we dream in the soul,
Of some better and fairer day;
And our days, the meanwhile, to that golden goal
Are gliding and sliding away.
Now the world becomes old, now again it is young,
But “The better” ‘s forever the word on the tongue.

At the threshold of life hope leads us in
Hope plays round the mirthful boy;
Though the best of its charms may with youth begin
Yet for age it reserves its toy.

(Poem By Friedrich Von Schiller)

The Tree of Knowledge we in Eden prov’d
The Tree of Life was thence to Heav’n remov’d
Hope is the growth of Earth, the only Plant,
Which either Heav’n, or Paradise cou’d want.

Hell knows it not, to Us alone confin’d,
And Cordial only to the Human Mind.
Receive it then, t’expel these mortal Cares,
Nor wave a Med’cine, which thy God prepares. 

(Poem By Anne Kingsmill Finch)

When Hope but made Tranquillity be felt
A Flight of Hopes for ever on the wing
But made Tranquillity a conscious Thing
And wheeling round and round in sportive coil
Fann’d the calm air upon the brow of Toil.

(Poem By Samuel Coleridge)

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair
The bees are stirring birds are on the wing
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow
Bloom, O ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips un brightened, wreath less brow, I stroll
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve
And Hope without an object cannot live.

(Poem By Samuel Coleridge)