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Ode, To Hope
by Thomas OldhamThou Cherub fair! in whose blue, sparkling eye
New joys, anticipated, ever play;
Celestial Hope! with whose all-potent sway
The moral elements of life comply;
At thy melodious voice their jarrings cease,
And settle into order, beauty, peace;
How dear to memory that thrice-hallow'd hour
Which gave Thee to the world, auspicious Power!
Sent by thy parent, Mercy, from the sky,
Invested with her own all-cheering ray,
To dissipate the thick, black cloud of fate
Which long had shrouded this terrestrial state,
What time fair Virtue, struggling with despair,
Pour'd forth to pitying heaven her saddest soul in prayer:
Then, then she saw the brightening gloom divide,
And Thee, sweet Comforter! adown thy rainbow glide.
From the veil'd awful future, to her view
Scenes of immortal bliss thou didst disclose;
With faith's rapt eye she hail'd the vision true,
Spurn'd the base earth, and smiled upon her woes.
Thou Sovereign of the human soul
Whose influence rules without controul!
Unlike thy gloomy rival, Fear,
Abhorr'd, usurping Demon! who constrains
The shuddering spirit in his icy chains:
O Hope! be thou for ever near;
Keep the dread tyrant far away,
And all my willing, grateful bosom sway.
Each coming hour, that smiles with promise sweet,
In thy bright, spotless mirror let me greet,
And fondly passive to thy dictates, deem
Those smiling hours all heavenly as they seem:
Should changeful Fortune, hostile in her mood,
With storms and thunder arm her meteor-car,
And 'gainst me summon all her host to war,
Rouse thou, kind Power! the champion Fortitude,
With his well-tempered shield
To brave the threatening field.
Amid that scene of woes and mental strife
Let thy sweet, distant whisper soothe my ear,
Inviting Fancy far from mortal life,
To wander, blest, her own-created sphere.
Do thou her glowing thought possess,
And let her fairy pencil draw,
Free, and unconscious of thy law,
Fair images of Happiness;
Of that celestial form which lives imprest
Indelible, eternal, in thy breast.
E'en in the dead calm of the mind,
When Fancy sleeps, thou yet be kind;
O Hope! still let thy golden pinions play,
The unbreathing void to cheer, and shed a glancing ray!