Heard (Henderson), Josephine D.
HOPE! Thou vain, delusive maiden,
Every moment cometh laden,
With some fresher, newer fancies,
Which before our vision glances,
Filling hearts already burning
With a deeper, stronger yearning;
Adding fuel to the fires,
Waking all the soul's desires.
Nectar holdeth to our lip,
Yet forbiddeth us a sip.
O, thou lovely, fickle jade,
Fools of men hast ever made.
We thy fleeting footsteps follow,
O'er the mountain in the hollow;
In the glade or through the dell
Captives bound by thy sweet spell.
Tyrant Queen, what power is thine!
Prince and Peasant at thy shrine,
For thy favor each imploring
Through thy coquettish alluring.
Pointing with thy finger gentle
To fair Fame's or Croesus' temple,
On thou leadest ever smiling
Over rugged roads beguiling.
Youth and maiden, sire and sage,
All in thy mad flight engage;
There's a better name for thee--
Disappointment it should be.