LOVE AND HOPE

Bless love and hope. Full many a withered year

Whirled past us, eddying to its chill doomsday;

And clasped together where the blown leaves lay,

We long have knelt and wept full many a tear.

Yet lo! one hour at last, the Spring's compeer,

Flutes softly to us from some green byeway:

Those years, those tears are dead, but only they:—

Bless love and hope, true soul; for we are here.

Cling heart to heart; nor of this hour demand

Whether in very truth, when we are dead,

Our hearts shall wake to know Love's golden head

Sole sunshine of the imperishable land;

Or but discern, through night's unfeatured scope,

Scorn-fired at length the illusive eyes of Hope.