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| HOPE, of all ills that men endure, | |
| The only cheap and universal cure! | |
| Thou captive’s freedom, and thou sick man’s health; | |
| Thou loser’s victory, and thou beggar’s wealth; | |
| Thou manna, which from Heav’n we eat, | 5 |
| To every taste a several meat. | |
| Thou strong retreat! thou sure entail’d estate, | |
| Which nought has power to alienate. | |
| Thou pleasant, honest flatterer! for none | |
| Flatter unhappy men, but thou alone. | 10 |
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| Hope, thou first-fruits of happiness; | |
| Thou gentle dawning of a bright success; | |
| Thou good preparative, without which our joy | |
| Does work too strong, and whilst it cures, destroy; | |
| Who out of fortune’s reach dost stand, | 15 |
| And art a blessing still in hand. | |
| Whilst thee, her earnest-money we retain, | |
| We certain are to gain, | |
| Whether she her bargain break, or else fulfill; | |
| Thou only good, not worse, for ending ill! | 20 |
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| Brother of faith, ’twixt whom and thee | |
| The joys of Heaven and Earth divided be! | |
| Though faith be heir, and have the fixt estate, | |
| Thy portion yet in moveables is great. | |
| Happiness it self’s all one | 25 |
| In thee, or in possession. | |
| Only the future’s thine, the present his. | |
| Thine’s the more hard and noble bliss; | |
| Best apprehender of our joys, which hast | |
| So long a reach, and yet canst hold so fast. | 30 |
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| Hope, thou sad lover’s only friend! | |
| Thou way that mayst dispute it with the end; | |
| For love I fear’s a fruit that does delight | |
| The taste itself less than the smell and sight. | |
| Fruition more deceitful is | 35 |
| Than thou canst be, when thou dost miss; | |
| Men leave thee by obtaining, and strait flee | |
| Some other way again to thee; | |
| And that’s pleasant country, without doubt, | |
| To which all soon return that travel out. | 40 |
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