Bless love and hope. Full many a withered year <br />Whirled past us, eddying to its chill doomsday; <br />And clasped together where the blown leaves lay <br />We long have knelt and wept full many a tear. <br />Yet lo! one hour at last, the Spring's compeer, <br />Flutes softly to us from some green byeway: <br />Those years, those tears are dead, but only they:— <br />Bless love and hope, true soul; for we are here. <br />Cling heart to heart; nor of this hour demand <br />Whether in very truth, when we are dead, <br />Our hearts shall wake to know Love's golden head <br />Sole sunshine of the imperishable land; <br />Or but discern, through night's unfeatured scope, <br />Scorn-fired at length the illusive eyes of Hope.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xliii-love-and-hope/
