Stanzas for Music

They say that Hope is happiness; But genuine Love must prize the past, And Memory wakes the thoughts that bless: They rose the first--they set the last;

And all that Memory loves the most Was once our only Hope to be, And all that Hope adored and lost Hath melted into Memory.

Alas! it is delusion all: The future cheats us from afar, Nor can we be what we recall, Nor dare we think on what we are.