Classic Poem

I had a hope, that in my heart
Long time kept flutt'ring;
And still from strength to strength it grew,
And seem'd as beautiful as true,
But, like the swan's sweet song, I knew
'Twould die in utt'ring.

Whene'er I found within my soul
Affliction springing,
Then, like the dove of old, it stole
Away, but soon regain'd its goal,
O'er the dark waters of my soul
The olive bringing.

Sweet Mira! dare I name to thee
The hope I cherish'd?
'Twas love! — Ah! cruel, frown not so,
Dark clouds are gath'ring on thy brow,
And the sweet hope I nurs'd 'till now,
'Tis gone, — 'tis perish'd.