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Percy Bysshe Shelley - Song. Hope
Work rating: Low

And said I that all hope was fled,
That sorrow and despair were mine,
That each enthusiast wish was dead,
Had sank beneath pale Misery’s shrine.--

Seest thou the sunbeam`s yellow glow, 
That robes with liquid streams of light;
Yon distant Mountain`s craggy brow.
And shows the rocks so fair,--so bright--

Tis thus sweet expectation’s ray,
In softer view shows distant hours, 
And portrays each succeeding day,
As dressed in fairer, brighter flowers,--

The vermeil tinted flowers that blossom;
Are frozen but to bud anew,
Then sweet deceiver calm my bosom, 
Although thy visions be not true,--

Yet true they are,—and I’ll believe,
Thy whisperings soft of love and peace,
God never made thee to deceive,
`Tis sin that bade thy empire cease. 

Yet though despair my life should gloom,
Though horror should around me close,
With those I love, beyond the tomb,
Hope shows a balm for all my woes.

AUGUST, 1810.
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