 | Hours at Naples, and Other Poems |  |
HOPE!
Once, once, how my Spirit triumphantly rose,
And challenged Life's troubles—defied its worst woes;
But now Earth's desolations have weigh'd down its wings,
Yet Hope's Nightingale still in the Wilderness sings.
And challenged Life's troubles—defied its worst woes;
But now Earth's desolations have weigh'd down its wings,
Yet Hope's Nightingale still in the Wilderness sings.
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That Wilderness wild into which it hath sunk,
This World's Wilderness cold, from which long, long it shrunk;
How unlike the bright fields of the glad azure air,
Which it haunted of old ere it struggled with Care!
This World's Wilderness cold, from which long, long it shrunk;
How unlike the bright fields of the glad azure air,
Which it haunted of old ere it struggled with Care!
Once, once, how my Heart swelled, elated with youth,
As open—as ardent—as cloudless as truth;
But each pulse now is check'd by a stern icy hand,
Yet Hope's Star still illumes it, that bright Star and bland.
As open—as ardent—as cloudless as truth;
But each pulse now is check'd by a stern icy hand,
Yet Hope's Star still illumes it, that bright Star and bland.
Once, once, how the Sunbeams of Gladness were mine,
(Ah! in happier eyes still they laugh out and shine),
Yet if Hope, Heav'nly Hope, but remaineth mine own,
I will cease to regret all the dear raptures flown!
(Ah! in happier eyes still they laugh out and shine),
Yet if Hope, Heav'nly Hope, but remaineth mine own,
I will cease to regret all the dear raptures flown!
| Hours at Naples, and Other Poems | |