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Against HopeAgainst Hope
HOPE, whose weak Being ruin`d is,
Alike if it succeed, and if it miss ;
Whom Good or Ill does equally confound,
And both the Horns of Fates Dilemma wound.
Vain shadow! which dost vanish quite,
Both at full Noon, and perfect Night !
The Stars have not a possibility
Of blessing Thee ;
If things then from their End we happy call,
`Tis Hope is the most Hopeless thing of all.
Hope, thou bold Taster of Delight,
Who whilst thou shouldst but tast, devour`st it quite !
Thou bringst us an Estate, yet leav`st us Poor,
By clogging it with Legacies before !
The Joys which we entire should wed,
Come deflowr`d Virgins to our bed ;
Good fortunes without gain imported be,
Such mighty Custom`s paid to Thee.
For Joy, like Wine, kept close does better tast ;
If it take air before, its spirits wast.
Hope, Fortunes cheating Lottery !
Where for one prize an hundred blanks there be ;
Fond Archer, Hope, who tak`st thy aim so far,
That still or short, or wide thine arrows are !
Thin, empty Cloud, which th` eye deceives
With shapes that our own Fancy gives !
A Cloud, which gilt and painted now appears,
But must drop presently in tears !
When thy false beams o`er Reasons light prevail,
By Ignes fatui for North-Stars we sail.
Brother of Fear, more gaily clad !
The merr`ier Fool o` th` two, yet quite as Mad :
Sire of Repentance, Child of fond Desire !
That blow`st the Chymicks, and the Lovers fire !
Leading them still insensibly`on
By the strange witchcraft of Anon !
By Thee the one does changing Nature through
Her endless Labyrinths pursue,
And th` other chases Woman, whilst She goes
More ways and turns than hunted Nature knows.
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