Page:Poems and ballads (IA balladspoems00swinrich).pdf/168

 If no breath of his burn through them, Joy must borrow Song from sorrow, Fear teach hope the way to woo them.

Grief has measures Soft as pleasure's, Fear has moods that hope lies deep in, Songs to sing him, Dreams to bring him, And a red‑rose bed to sleep in.

Hope with fearless Looks and tearless Lies and laughs too near the thunder; Fear hath sweeter Speech and meeter For heart's love to hide him under.