 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
89
AND MAY I HOPE?
And may I hope? thou kind one, oh!
Can joy so great be mine?
I 'd pass a thousand years of wo,
Nor think the minutes travelled slow,
Might I, at last, be thine.
Can joy so great be mine?
I 'd pass a thousand years of wo,
Nor think the minutes travelled slow,
Might I, at last, be thine.
And may I hope?—What rapture waits
On that auspicious word!
Now do your worst, ye envious fates,
The sentence which my soul elates,
Attesting angels heard.
On that auspicious word!
Now do your worst, ye envious fates,
The sentence which my soul elates,
Attesting angels heard.
And may I hope?—Then I am blest,
That word expels despair,
Removes each sorrow from my breast,
With every doubt that dare molest,
And plants an Eden there.
That word expels despair,
Removes each sorrow from my breast,
With every doubt that dare molest,
And plants an Eden there.
And may I hope?—Then fancy may
Foretaste the nuptial kiss,
In promised rapture revel gay,
An antepast of that sweet day,
Which consummates my bliss.
Foretaste the nuptial kiss,
In promised rapture revel gay,
An antepast of that sweet day,
Which consummates my bliss.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |