|Written By:||Thomas Jefferson|
by Thomas Jefferson
Tis hope supports each noble flame,
'Tis hope inspires poetic lays,
Our heroes fight in hopes of fame,
And poets write in hopes of praise.
She sings sweet songs of future years,
And dries the tears of present sorrow,
Bids doubting mortals cease their fears,
And tells them of a bright to-morrow.
And where true love a visit pays,
The minstrel hope is allways there,
To soothe young Cupid with her lays,
And keep the lover from despair.
Why fades the rose upon thy cheek;
Why droop the lilies at the view?
Thy cause of sorrow, Ellen speak,
Why alter'd thus thy sprightly hue?
Each day, alas! with breaking heart,
I see they beautous form decline;
Yet fear my anguish to impart,
Lest it should add a pang to thine.
I will not be afraid whi