FOR THE VISITOR.

HOPE.

Amid the varying scenes of life,
Where wasting care, and noisy strife
The shifting drama fill;
In this dark valley drowned in tears,
Augmented by increasing years,
HOPE lights her taper still.

What though the soul ride on the waves,
Where danger lurks, and terror raves,
To fright the goddess' joy;
To save her from the rock Despair,
Hope is her steady anchor there--
Credulity the buoy.

What though a deluge whelm the ground,
Nought but the sea be seen around,
And naught but heaven above;
Like Noah, on the tide of grief,
The mind soon finds a sweet relief,
And Hope her herald-dove.

Thus, when the box of misery broke,
Fair Hope survived the cruel shock--
--Catholieon most sure--
For all the pains that wreck the mind,
And all the ills that vex mankind,
Herself a ready cure.
R.