Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/The Ashes of Dead Hopes

by Sophia Courtoulde Hazlett-Bevis

The Ashes of Dead Hopes.

HER ANSWER.

I acknowledge I'm tired and lonely,
 Weary of toil and its strife;
You tell me it's over, if only
 I'll promise, and soon be your wife.

I've been on the hill-tops of morning,
 Way down in the valleys of night;
I've seen the bright sunlight adorning,
 And clouds scatter low in their might.

The pleasures of life have I tasted,
 Its greatness as well as its woe;
And to give you the dregs of the wasted,
 It were better methinks to forego.

Not wasted in idle repining,
 Not wasted in weakness nor sin,
But spilled is the blood, torn the lining,
 Of a heart that lies buried within.

Because of the trust that was broken,
 A beautiful promise ne'er kept,
Can you wonder I pause when love's spoken,
 And think twice before I accept?

When once a pure love has been shaken,
 The sufferer struggles in vain
To throw off the shackles, or 'waken
 To trust and true happiness again.

There's a lone grave in shadow off yonder,
 And in it lies buried the past—
Shall I glean from the dead hopes, I wonder,
 A glow of the old love at last?

Ah, no! It is useless to urge me—
 Don't plead and don't question me why?
You may he true, and may not be;
 My faith has been shaken for aye.

I'll re-cover my grave, and do battle
 The same as I have done for years;
And amidst the world's hurry and rattle,
 Give smiles, where I once shed my tears.