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! |
