the wordlinks poetry project

hope has slain me

I wake from dreams, my heart as warm with love for her as e’er it lay — but her I thought I’d lately reft from out my soul, and left but space in mind. That dream come soft among my thoughts and unsuspecting cold resolves ‘Tis hope has slain me — I know what: for had she let me still despair of ever her head laid by mine, my lips had still drunk freedom’s wine. But as upon me comes the thought that she may yet me love, I silent walk, and feel my former strength to water turned. *