Page:The Venetian Bracelet.pdf/192

Rh

When Care looks back on that bright leaf Of ready smiles and short-lived grief. The future!—'tis the promised land, To which Hope points with prophet hand, Telling us fairy tales of flowers That only change for fruit—and ours. Though false, though fleeting, and though vain, Thou blessed time I say again.— Glad being, with thy downcast eyes, And visionary look that lies Beneath their shadow, thou shalt share A world, where all my treasures are— My lute's sweet empire, fill'd with all That will obey my spirit's call; A world lit up by fancy's sun! Ah! little like our actual one.