Hope

I see the shadowed hill
Standing in solitude
Overlooking the grassy plain, swaying,
As I, watching it, perpetually brood
Glancing back over my shoulder
I leave the world for a moment, I sigh
The glass, alas, is fogged
I shall not be, perhaps until I die
Many a thing will twinkle
As lovely as ever it’ll seem
But the twinkle is owned by the eye
Merely a dream
Beautiful is the morning sun
Shining upon the glimmering trees
Yet terrible, as it wields, with angry eyes
The prospect of the world to cease
Many souls will surely tremble
At nature’s wrath they’ll run
But as long as the eternal void’s unfurled
I shall not be undone
The breeze may not blow aloft
The water may not flow
But the healthy traveler, time by name
Will come as he may, and go.
For as long as in my eye you’ll glimmer
The glimmer shall be true
For as long as hope flows in my stream of thoughts
I shall never be in solitude.