Madmoments: or First Verseattempts By a Bornnatural. Addressed to the Lightheaded of Society at Large, by Henry Ellison |
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HOPE. |
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 | Madmoments: or First Verseattempts |  |
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HOPE.
Hope is the greatest Thief and Juggler! heRobs us of this fair Present, of the Hour
Which is our own, and which he has no Power
To give us back, with all his Jugglery,
For that which we may never live to see;
He lures us on from each ripe Fruit and Flower,
Still promising us sweeter, 'till to our
Heartsgrief we reach that bright Futurity,
Painted so fair, and find naught but the Grave,
From which the Sunset has just died away!
And weary with the vain Chace which we have
Followed so long, we sit down on the gray,
Old, mossy Stone, and while the dark Yews wave
Above us, listen to the Sculls, which say,
«Here Traveller is the Bourne of thy long Way,
Take one more Look of Life, for soon naught save
A few Bones and vain Name, to such as stray
Here, will repeat the Warning which we give
Thee now, and bid the Fool make haste to live!»
He who has not learnt what Life should be 'till
Told by the Grave, its Ends can ne'er fulfill!
| Madmoments: or First Verseattempts | |