 | Voices and visions |  |
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HOPE
Blithe portress at the gateways of the soul!
Dear sycophant, that dost so fondly cling
To even our worst of sorrows! Bark whose wing
Dauntlessly voyages to illusion's goal,
Heedless if it be shadow, if rock and shoal!
White bird that carollest unwearying
Trebles of song, like those by new-born spring
Lured skyward from some blossom-tinted knoll!
Dear sycophant, that dost so fondly cling
To even our worst of sorrows! Bark whose wing
Dauntlessly voyages to illusion's goal,
Heedless if it be shadow, if rock and shoal!
White bird that carollest unwearying
Trebles of song, like those by new-born spring
Lured skyward from some blossom-tinted knoll!
Ah, Hope, thou art sweet when mad seas glass wild skies,
When war, pest, earthquake riots in bitter glee,
Or yet when tyranny tortures and enslaves;
But sweetest when thy shape phantasmal flies,
A will-o'-the-wisp named Immortality,
Over the darkness of earth's myriad graves!
When war, pest, earthquake riots in bitter glee,
Or yet when tyranny tortures and enslaves;
But sweetest when thy shape phantasmal flies,
A will-o'-the-wisp named Immortality,
Over the darkness of earth's myriad graves!
| Voices and visions | |