To Hope "When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my 'mind's eye' flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head.

was it a vision or a waking dream? Fled is that music--do I wake or sleep?

What is there in thee, Moon! That thou should'st move My heart so potently?

I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

Works of genius are the first things in the world.

Beauty is truth, truth beauty

Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time.