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Thomas Cole's poetry

the collected poems of America's foremost painter of the Hudson River School reflecting his feelings for nature and the romantic spirit of the Nineteenth Century

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[20. Vain is my fondest hope! Alone—alone]

Vain is my fondest hope! Alone—alone
Through the wide weary world, I tread nor find
That loving spirit—that congenial one,
Would mingle soul with my soul—mind with mind,
And like two fountains forming one deep stream
Whose waters clear should be divided never;
Warbling their way as beauteous as a dream
Of Heaven, that shall be dreamed and dreamed forever.
Yes! I have wished for one to dream with me
When was my mood the real world to leave
For the far brighter realm of fantasy—
And when descended into earthly care
As clouds must sometimes rest on mountain tops
My sorrows disappointments love to share
And let her joys be my joys—hopes my hopes—
And thus the river of our love should be
Augmenting as it flowed towards Eternity—