Classic Poem

Fair Hope that will not die,
I lay my head at night
Upon your bosom white,
And with the dawning light,
Through meadows wet with dew,
I walk with you,
Fair Hope that will not die.

Fair Hope that will not die,
I would that you were dead,
For now the leaves are shed,
And darkens overhead
A wintry sky;
I would that you were dead,
Fair Hope that will not die.