Nashville patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1858-1860, 1858-11-04
II 1fE H,rit9s for tte Patriot.
THE FLIGHT OF HOPE.
BY Randall

THE FLIGHT OF HOPE.
RANDALL
Loot, aye forever lost, that star OF hope
That 1ured me on for years; no more will
Its soft bright rays of love shine upon me,
No more will I, with eager strides, follow in
Its glittering path and try to grasp with
Childish hope it's crimson rays, and
Irvine them into wreaths, TO crown the one
Who causes emotions strange, aye strange, indeed,
To thrcb within my breast. Lost, lost,
Forever
When first It's rays Of radiant
Beauty fell gently upon me, was but a child
With mothers gentle smiles and tender words
Still lowering DER me, when first stretched
My youthful hands to grasp its streaks of
Golden light mothers arms gently held
Me back, and, with soft and loving words So
OF warning, bid me not be tempted by
It's brancy. Then like dove who, weary
And broken wipg,d, seeks for shelter its parents
Nest, crept still closer TO her, and gazed
All tearfuly at that star whose beauty seem'd
To grow as do the morning flowers Expanding
Leaf by leaf, as the sleepy dew drops
Gently fall from of their tender beads
And let the suns pure bright rays creep silently
Within their folds, adding beauty and
Fragrance to their blusliDg innocence:
Folded thus within that embrace Of love
Pure and holy, / wltch'd that star vending
Its way majesticalIy' through its heaven-lit
PATH its brightness Hll'd my heart with hopes
That told of happy hours yet to come,
Visions Of the future mingled with such scenes
As mortal know of in multitudes assembled
Around me beckning me to their realms
OF bliss /; / was its slave and how'd in
Humble submission to its fatterng beauty;
Still were those arms closely wound around
Me. still there stole into my care from those
Quvering lips, newborn tones of mournful
Warning, yet needed them not, an else but
That star naught to me, on, on, did
1t lead me from out that embrace and
From beneath those looks OF love that
mother can only give still she chung to
Ne with that holy confidence Saint would
Feel in cnging upon heaven, but all
Was lost, my eyes, my ears my heart, my soul. p
We're senseless to all but yonder star, tore
Myself from her embrace and pung'd into
The sleep of youth ami fed upon its dreams
Which for me a wreath of gold and crimson
With tiny streaks Of silver stolen from the moon,
As her face, was hid by chance beneath a
Sailing cloud, and trembling dew drops pluck'd
From the sleeping lly's head'were blended
Into a ghtering net, and hung in dazlilg folds
Around this wreath Of hope, curtain
That shut out from my gaze the realities Of
Life, and thus slept and dreampt.
For years
Did that wreatI Unconscious of the
Time when t would be waited into nothingness
OF which it was composed, it sat lightly my
Head, ! felt not its weight while onward
In the land Of visions roam'd a child
OF brittle hopes whose stupeudous heigts were
Shvered iGto pieces as the current of the winds
We're chang'd by tickle fate.
But 10 time has
Come when no more shall rest upon that
Couch Of down, each gttering ray has
Faded from that star, its veil of
Dew hops that lungs IN watery folds
Amid its light serene has melted into air.
And by stronger breezcs waited 10 distant
Cline. The tiny streaks of silver too that
'fwin'd so lovingly around it is no more;
Strip't of its beauty it stands ike
Forest tree that obeys the voice Of autumn's
Call, and drops its leaves one by one till they
Lie witherd beneath the branches they once
Adorned, Fled, fed forever is all that
held dear to me- where those arms
That twin'd so tenderly around me in my
Cnll1Hood where the beams ~ purity
That shone from out those orbs of holy
Brightness where the who uttered mildly
To me in tones so sweetly words OF gentle
2 Warning those sounds hear them yet
But their sweetness can never taste
Never alas despair is my companion.
She too for whom
Ny youthful heart oft has beat the first throb
OF love, she who fam d that sleeping
Spirit into life and nourished it { ON
font whose surface wore the robes
OF angels purity and truth, she wht Sc life
faneied in those Yeas OF slumbers
Would be knit with mine, she who WANDERED
Hand in hand with me and scattered DER
Ny path the fairest flowers whose perfumes
Rose like mists from Of the boiling ocean
Bearing my soul 10 the highest realms
In the land Of love, she too has left
Ne, yes left me for the smiles and batteries
OF one whose hoBey'd words she hides within
Her heart, and feeds upon them the
Simple Doe innocentIy .eks from out the
Poison flower its deadly nectar.
heed not row
The .wiIight's passing hours that once wont
To Ill my snul with love for all the beauties
OF this earth, the music of ripping
Streams as they flow calmly by, the magic
Tlnts OF sun set, that streaks the western
Sky with tmid rays Of light bursting
Through the gsuzy clouds that veil the sleepy
Sun from natures gaze, heed not all I csc
Charms that thrill the heart of one who
Hopes, hear but the deep and mournruI
Tones OF the bell of fate, as il tolls the
Passing hours, each stroke warning me Of
The nearer approach Of the moment,
When life's curtain shall be lower'd,
Covering me in its sable folds a child
OF broken hopes.
NASHVILLE, Oct. 30th, 1883.