Hope

I found a poem about hope that I really liked.

Hope by Emily Bronte

Hope was but a timid friend;
She sat without the grated den,
Watching how my fate would tend,
Even as selfish-hearted men.
She was cruel in her fear;
Through the bars, one dreary day,
I looked out to see her there,
And she turned her face away!

Like a false guard, false watch keeping,
Still, in strife, she whispered peace;
She would sing while I was weeping;
If I listened, she would cease.
False she was, and unrelenting;
When my last joys strewed the ground,
Even Sorrow saw, repenting,
Those sad relics scattered round;

Hope, whose whisper would have given
Balm to all my frenzied pain,
Stretched her wings,
and soared to heaven,
Went, and ne'er returned again!

This poem is talking about how hope is timid and whispers, and how it would watch her suffer, and not help her. How selfish hope is. It plays tricks on you, you might think hope is on the way, when times are really getting worse. Hope never comes when you want it to come, but when you don't need it. She is saying how hope would have helped her so much, but instead it left her to fend alone.

http://famouspoetsandpoems.com/poets/emily_bronte/poems/4188.html