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1779–1852

LOVE AND HOPE.

Thomas Moore

At morn, beside yon summer sea, Young Hope and Love reclined; But scarce had noon-tide come, when he Into his bark leapt smilingly,

And left poor Hope behind. “I go,” said Love, “to sail awhile “Across this sunny main;” And then so sweet, his parting smile,

That Hope, who never dreamt of guile, Believed he'd come again. She lingered there till evening's beam Along the waters lay;

And o'er the sands, in thoughtful dream, Oft traced his name, which still the stream As often washed away. At length a sail appears in sight,

And toward the maiden moves! ‘ Tis Wealth that comes, and gay and bright, His golden bark reflects the light, But ah! it is not Love's.

Another sail —‘ twas Friendship showed Her night-lamp o'er the sea; And calm the light that lamp bestowed; But Love had lights that warmer glowed,

And where, alas! was he? Now fast around the sea and shore Night threw her darkling chain; The sunny sails were seen no more,

Hope's morning dreams of bliss were o'er — Love never came again!

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LOVE AND HOPE. · Thomas Moore · Poetry Cove