The brightest cloud that decks the western skies
The flatterer Hope her mimic canvas chose,
Bade pictured dreams of future bliss arise,
And stole from memory all her treasured woes.
Gay were the forms her ready pencil drew,
(Such forms she fondly thought would never fade,)
Whilst Youth enchanted threw a warmer hue
O'er the soft shadows by her hand pourtrayed.
I turned the fairy scene again to view,
With radiant Fancy's richest tints imprest;
But night's dark shade, with cold unwholesome dew,
Alone remained to chill my aching breast.
Thus Hope's fantastic visions disappear,
Her brightest prospects vanish in a Tear !