SPIRIT OF HOPE.
Reading edition
———
BY MRS. E. J. EAMES.
———
Enchantress, come! and charm my cares to rest.
How shall I lure thee to my side again,
Thou, who wert once the Angel of my Youth?
Thou, who didst woo me with thy blandest strain —
Tinting wild Fancy with the hues of Truth;
Whose plumy shape, floating in rosy light,
Showered purest pearl-drops from its fairy wing,
Making earth’s pathway like the day-star bright,
Thou charmer rare of life’s enchanted spring!
Fair were the scenes thy radiant pencil drew,
When on my eyes the early beauty broke:
And thy rich-ringing lyre, when life was new,
A glowing rapture in my bosom woke.
Then thy gay sister Fancy made my dreams
Lovely, and lightsome as the summer-hours,
And in her fairy loom wrought hues and gleams
That clothed the Ideal in a robe of flowers.
Now, thou hast vanished from my yearning sight —
Thou comest no more in melting softness drest —
No more thou weavest sweet visions of delight,
No charm thou bring’st to lull my heart to rest.
The bloom has faded from thy face, dear Hope —
The light is lost—the shadow comes not back!
Thy green oasis-flowers no more re-ope,
To scatter fragrance o’er life’s desert track.
Oh, angel-spirit of my perished years!
Thy early memory stands before me now:
Ah! by that memory, which so fair appears,
Unveil once more the beauty of thy brow;
Come—if I have not quite outlived thee—come!
And bid thy rival dark Despair depart —
His touch has left me blind and deaf and dumb —
Bring thou one ray of sunshine to my heart!