Thomas Campbell

Anonymous, "Written in a blank Leaf of Campbell's Pleasures of Hope" The Comet [Boston] (28 December 1811) 137.

How hard the slave's imperious lot
Forc'd from his home, his parents' cot;
To other climes his course he steers,
And tho' with eyes bedew'd with tears,
Borne on his voyage with speedy sail,
He weeps his grief o'erburthen'd tale,
Yet pleasures still his thoughts illume,
Thy prospects, Hope, avert the gloom.

The hardy seaman ploughs the wave,
Nor fears to meet a watry grave;
While dangers on his voyage attend,
He trusts in Hope, his early friend;
Tho' storms arise and lightnings glare,
And peals of thunder rend the air,
His manly soul can front them all,
Inspir'd by Hope, he braves them all.

The lover, doom'd by fate to part
From her who holds his willing heart,
And drooping takes the farewell kiss,
Feels all the luxuries of bliss;
For less reserv'd the maid appears,
In pity views his sighs and tears;
And silken Hope unto him shows,
Th' approaching end of all his woes.