The Last Robin
Lyrics and Sonnets


by Ethelwyn Wetherald



 

THE PRAYER OF THE YEAR.



LEAVE me Hope when I am old;
     Strip my joys from me,
Let November to the cold
     Bare each leafy tree;
Chill my lover, dull my friend,

5

     Only, while I grope
To the dark, the silent end,
     Leave me Hope!

Blight my bloom when I am old,
     Bid my sunlight cease;

10

If it need be, from my hold
     Take the hand of Peace.
Leave no springtime memory,
     But upon the slope
Of the days that are to be,

15

     Leave me Hope! [Page 156]