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Michael Drayton
(1563-1631 )

XXVI. TO DESPAIR

I ever love where never hope appears
Yet hope draws on my never-hoping care,
And my life's hope would die, but for despair ;
My never-certain joy breeds ever-certain fears ;
Uncertain dread gives wings unto my hope,
Yet my hope's wings are laden so with fear,
As they cannot ascend to my hope's sphere ;
Though fear gives them more than a heavenly scope,
Yet this large room is bounded with despair ;
So my love is still fettered with vain hope,
And liberty deprives him of his scope,
And thus am I imprisoned in the air.
    Then, sweet despair, awhile hold up thy head,
    Or all my hope for sorrow will be dead.

© 2000 Elena and Yacov Feldman