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Poem by Thomas Gent

To Hope


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. The Recall of the Hero
  3. Invocation to Sleep
  4. The Heliotrope
  5. Written in the Album of the Lady of Counsellor D. Pollock

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

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