Page:Poems by Robert Louis Stevenson, Hitherto unpublished, 1921.djvu/79

 Yes, all are gone; and yet, at night,

New objects of desire

People the sunken fire

And new hopes whisper sweetly new delight;

And still, flush-faced, new goals I see,

New finger-posts I find,

And still thro' rain and wind

A troop of shouting hopes keep step with me.

Tho' day by day old hopes depart,

Yet other hopes arise

If still we bear a hopeful heart

And forward-looking eyes. [ 71 ]