To Hope Poem by Thomas Odiorne

O come, thou cherub of enchanting vision,
Man's beck'ning angel through the scenes of care;
In adverse fortune make the best provision,
And save me from the horror of despair!

Since I've embark'd on life's precarious ocean,
Should the waves roar, impell'd by furious gales;
My bark at random, should the dire commotion,
Splinter her masts, and shiver all her sails;

While overhead, thick clouds and billows blending,
The skies on fire reflect a dismal glare;
O, strengthen me, amidst the scene contending,
And snatch me from the grapple of despair!

But should my ship, grown leaky all around her,
Fill with the flood beyond the power to save;
Should she amidst the mighty uproar, founder,
And leave me to the fury of the wave;

Quit me not then, upon a fragment riding,
At random hove upon the boist'rous deep;
But give me prospects of the winds subsiding,
And from despair my flagging spirits keep!

And O! at death, although distress attend me,
Depriv'd of earthly prospect of support;
Be near, thou Angel! kind assistance lend me,
And waft my spirit to its native port!