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A VANISHED HOPE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Sweet with the scents of the summer
Last Line: Her firstborn out of her sight!
Alternate Author Name(s): Van Deth, Gerrit, Mrs.
Subject(s): Hope; Optimism

SWEET with the scents of the summer,
White with the dew and the sun,
Wee as the robes of the fairies,
She folded them one by one.

Royally fair was the raiment,
Though none but herself might see
How the heart with the hand had labored
For the Prince who was yet to be!

Into those tiny garments
Was more than of needle wrought—
Hours of loving fancies,
Beautiful flights of thought.

By lane and road were burning,
In splendor of crimson dyes,
Maple and elm and sumach,
Shaming the sunset skies.

She smiled from her chamber window:
"Ah, fade, bright leaves!" she said,
"For I 'll be glad with my baby,
When all the leaves are dead!"

Cold is the heaven above her,
Cloudy and dark the day,
As she looks again in sorrow
That is slow to pass away.

Useless the treasures of linen,
And the cobweb frosts of lace;
Her babe on mother's bosom
Found briefest resting-place.

All night she hears the north wind,
She feels the rain and the snow;
Whenever they fall on her darling,
Over her heart they go.

Sleep hath no fetter to bind her,
Ever its spell will break;
At the dream of a touch like a roseleaf,
The grief returns to ache.

Comfort her not with the angels,
Since—changing her day to night—
Some pitiless angel carried
Her firstborn out of her sight!

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