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Poem by Thomas Gent


To Hope


Sonnet

How droops the wretch whom adverse fates pursue,
While sad experience, from his aching sight,
Sweeps the fair prospects of unprov'd delight
Which flattering friends and flattering fancies drew.
When want assails his solitary shed,
When dire distraction's horrent eye-ball glares,
Seen 'mid the myriad of tumultuous cares
That shower their shafts on his devoted head.
Then, ere despair usurp his vanquish'd heart,
Is there a power, whose influence benign
Can bid his head in pillow'd peace recline,
And from his breast withdraw the barbed dart?
There is-sweet Hope! misfortune rests on thee-
Unswerving anchor of humanity! 



Thomas Gent


Thomas Gent's other poems:
  1. On a Delightful Drawing in my Album
  2. Prometheus
  3. On the Portrait of the Son of J.G. Lambton, Esq
  4. Invocation to Sleep
  5. The Chain-Pier, Brighton


Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • John Keats To Hope ("WHEN by my solitary hearth I sit")
  • Thomas Hood To Hope ("Oh! take, young Seraph, take thy harp")
  • Janet Little To Hope ("HAIL meek-ey'd maid! of matchless worth!")

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