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! 

1. Mature Reflections
2. The Grave of Dibdin
3. Invocation to Sleep
4. Written on Seeing the Children of the Naval Asylum
5. Written in the Album of the Lady of Counsellor D. Pollock

Mathilde Blind To Hope ("OH come, thou power divine")

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