Hope is such a bait, it covers any hook.
The hours we pass with happy prospects in view are more pleasing than those crowded with fruition.
Hope, like the gleaming taper
The wretch condemn'd with life to part, Still, still on hope relies; And every pang that rends the heart Bids expectation rise.
In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs-and God has given my share- I still had hopes my latest hours to crown, Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down.
To the last moment of his breath, On hope the wretch relies; And even the pang preceding death Bids expectation rise.
Hope, like the gleaming taper's light, Adorns and cheers our way; And still, as darker grows the night, Emits a brighter ray.