Oliver Goldsmith

28. Song.

The wretch condemn’d with life to part,
Still, still on hope relies;
And ev’ry pang that rends the heart,
Bids expectation rise.

Hope, like the glimm’ring taper’s light,
Adorns and cheers the way;
And still, as darker grows the night,
Emits a brighter ray.

1816 Edition.