The Hope of the World and other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

Before my plate the salt was overset,
And thirteen guests around my table met.
“Alas!” I cried, and gazed around the room,
“Omens of sorrow—warnings of the tomb!”
Scarce had I said, when to my wond'ring sight,
Appear'd a spirit beautiful and bright—
Cheer up, my friends, be merry as of yore;
I've look'd on Death, and fear her face no more.

There was no terror in her eyes so sweet,
A broken chain was lying at her feet,
And round her brow she wore a chaplet rare,
Twined 'mid the ringlets of her auburn hair;

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And her white fingers pointed to her breast,
Where slept an infant in unconscious rest.
Fill, fill the goblet till the wine runs o'er;
I've look'd on Death, and fear her face no more.

“Why,” said the spirit, “why should mortals fear
Their kindest friend, their best protector here?
Why should the weary and the slave complain?—
I send one rest, and break the other's chain;
And give weak man, ungrateful for my love,
Immortal wings to waft his soul above—”
Hush'd be thy fears, O maid whom I adore,
I've look'd on Death, and fear her face no more.

“Thy soul, O man! imprison'd here below,
Crawls in the mire, a prey to every woe;
But freed by me, on angel pinions borne,
Shall visit worlds beyond the gates of morn,
Shall soar to spheres where sorrow is unknown,
And see the Godhead on his sapphire throne!”—

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Friend! give thy hand! be merry as before;
I've look'd on Death, and fear her face no more.

“Then fear not me, nor say I'm foe to man,
And till I call, be happy if you can!”
The vision's fled! fill, fill your bumpers high!
Let omens come, we will not fear to die;
Heaven is no foe to innocent delight;
Death has no terror if the heart is right.
Friends and companions! let the wine run o'er!
We've look'd on Death, and fear her face no more!