HOPE.

ALL the pleasant ways of men

She has known and made them hers;

Graceless fancies vanish when

Her voice breaks on me and stirs

Long-unsounded chords that thrill

With sweet music still.

For a moment I was raised

From myself, and spoke and moved

With high poets unamazed,

With old sages unreproved;

Life I felt in its completeness,

All its strength and sweetness.

Now can I, returning, tread

Narrow ways with low desires?

Fancy rises from the dead,

And a new-born shame inspires

A regret that truly measures

Her ignoble pleasures.

Dante! thy "New Life" has shown

Love's eternal miracle;

Can I for my past atone,

That love may be possible?

That pure love of thine, great poet,

Can I learn to know it?

Lady! when serener thought,

And a life, from self set free,

Have with gracious influence wrought

A love-worthy soul in me;

Lady! may some soul like thine

Then awaken mine.