Poems (Hoffman)/Aspirations
For works with similar titles, see Aspirations.
ASPIRATIONS.
Could I but write some living thought,Some truth to never be forgot;Some pearl of feeling shed in loveThat had its origin above,Or sing a song sublime.Could I but know their influence sweetHad helped to make the work completeOf touching, in some heart's domain,Chords that shall never pause againThroughout the bounds of time.
And when this pen with age shall rust,This hand be summoned dust to dust,This weary brain forget to think,And sundered be each golden linkIn friendship's jeweled chain,Then may the dreams of vanished years,Bathed in the tide of human tears,Break forth like burning stars,And guide some wanderer with their lightTo sunlit heights again.
Then gladly would I leave behindThe chains that now my spirit bind;Then peaceful would my slumber beUnbroken as a summer sea,Untroubled by regret.This would erase life's parting pain,To know I had not lived in vain;To know my race was bravely run,To know my work was truly doneBefore my day-star set.
Is it for fame? Forbid the dreamTo enter an unselfish theme.But oh! to bloom like some sweet flowerUnseen in its sequestered bower,Its modest name unknown,Wafting sweet fragrance on the air,That e'en the lowliest child may share,Yet satisfied its fame untold,To perish in the silent mold,Unmarked by sculptured stone.
Or like some warbler bubbling o'er with song,Whose clear notes ring, the forest aisles along;Who hears unchanged remarks of slight or praise,Content to sing through dark or summer daysPure heartfelt notes, that wealth nor glory bring,But leave unchanged the lessons they have taughtWhen the sweet singer long has been forgotForever in the minds that heard to glow'Till hearts that know their fullness overflow,And in a grander song their echo sing.