HOPE by ABBATI

I

GRIEVE no more, Mortals, dry your eyes,
And learn this truth of me,
Fate rolls, and round about us flies,
But for its ills carries a remedy.
The leafless boughs on all those stocks,
With green shall beautify their locks;
And straight
Such store of various fruits shall yield,
That their tough backs shall truckle with the weight.
For in a little space
Winter shall give to Spring its place,
And with fresh robes, Hope's Emblem, clothe the field.

CHORUS

@3He has no faith who sighs and whines,
And at his present ill repines:
For we should strive
'Gainst all afflictions to apply
This Universal Remedy,
To hope and live.@1

II

Hope does our future joys anticipate,
It eases all our pains;
For in the present ill that reigns,
Endurance only triumphs over Fate.
Young colts fierce and untaught,
In time submit,
For they to yield are brought,
Their backs to burdens, and their mouths to th' bit:
With Patience also will the country swain
His conquest gain;
And make the stubborn heifer bow
Its neck to th' yoke, and labour at the plough.

CHORUS

@3Then he wants faith who sighs and whines,
And at his present ill repines:
For Man should strive
'Gainst all afflictions to apply
This Universal Remedy,
To hope and live.@1

III

Thus sang a smiling Courtier t'other day,
Under the covert of a spreading tree,
And to his song upon his lute did play,
By whom an Ass you might attentive see.

The Ass in scorn drew nearer him and bray'd,
And arguing thus, methought, in answer said:

If this green grass on which I fed but now,
To be of Hope the symbol you allow,
And if the Ass's proper meat be grass,
Sure he that lives on Hope, feeds like an Ass.

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