(30 July 1818 – 19 December 1848 / Thornton / Yorkshire)

Hope

Hope was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.

She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars, one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard, false watch keeping,
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease.

False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne'er returned again!

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Comments (10)

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She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. Stretched her wings, and soared to heaven, Went, and ne'er returned again!
Very good poem i love very much sweet sexy poem i love it
She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. Can closely associate with these lines. Indeed hope is a jolly pal for an aching soul. she would balm with kindness, enlightening our souls.
She would sing while I was weeping; If I listened, she would cease. Can closely associate with these lines... indeed hope is a timid friend. She whispers light when in doom, balms with sunshine and wishful dreams. Beautiful poem! !
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