Poems (Campbell)/The Revival
THE REVIVAL.
Sweet, Hope! enchanting nymph, appear! And bring thy laughing train with thee;Illume the dreary coming year, And set the wild nymph, Fancy, free.For Spring has fled this many a day, Bright Summer dwells on happier plains;E'en yellow Autumn fades away, And gloomy Winter only reigns;Yet, what though gloomy Winter reign A despot o'er the blasted year,Shall I dull melancholy feign, Or heave a sigh, or shed a tear? Away then, dark despondency! This breast shall never harbour thee!
Though fortune frown, though nature lour, Remorse that comes like deadly foe,And dark despair's afflicting pow'r, The guiltless heart, can never know!Then, what though fortune on me frown, Shall sorrow's tear descend for this?Hope shall the humble prospect crown, And point to scenes of future bliss—Hilarity and mirth shall lead, In jocund bands, the circling year,Till Spring again shall deck the mead, And Winter's horrors disappear. Away then, dark despondency! This breast shall never harbour thee!