Charlotte Turner Smith (Шарлотта Смит)

Sonnet 6. To Hope

OH, Hope! thou soother sweet of human woes.
How shall I lure thee to my haunts forlorn?
For me wilt thou renew the wither'd rose,
And clear my painful path of pointed thorn?
Ah, come sweet nymph! in smiles and softness drest,
Like the young hours that lead the tender year,
Enchantress, come! and charm my cares to rest:--
Alas! the flatterer flies, and will not hear!
A prey to fear, anxiety, and pain,
Must I a sad existence still deplore
Lo!--the flowers fade, but all the thorns remain,
'For me the vernal garland blooms no more.'
Come then, 'pale Misery's love!' be thou my cure,
And I will bless thee, who though slow art sure.

1. Sonnet 85. The Fairest Flowers Are Gone! For Tempests Fell
2. Sonnet 51. Supposed to have been written in the Hebrides
3. Sonnet 43. The Unhappy Exile
4. Sonnet 64. Here from the Restless Bed of Lingering Pain
5. Sonnet 27. Sighing I See Yon Little Troop at Play

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