STAY, Hope, and hear thy votary's prayer,
Nor spread thy filmy wings in air;
Those painted pinions light and gay
Must they then waft thee far away?
Must they then spread before my sight,
And shade me into deepest night?
See where I've deck'd thy once lov'd shrine
See what gay flowers thy bust entwine!
The morning rose that fades ere noon,
Buds promising to blow full soon,
The first green leaf that nature spreads,
The first flowers rising from their beds,
The daisy ever fond to blow,
And the sweet drop that's wrapp'd in snow
All these an offering oft I've paid,
As at thy shrine I fondly pray'd;
Still didst thou promise thou wouldst be,
Next to fond Fancy, kind to me.