Hope's clear blue eye is open wide...

Hope's clear blue eye is open wide . . . . . . . . . And hath fair visions that abide; The white light of imagination Glows on her brows as a heavenly bride.

Her face is lift to veilëd things, To which she mounts as if with wings; The tents of night, the sable future, Are light as day with the song she sings.

As lithe as breadths of silvery rye When wrestling winds its footing try, The spirit that with hope is gleaming; It must look up to the bending sky.