Illusions Of Love Poem by John William Inchbold

In midst of dark and dreary days and nights,
In sad and faded autumn of the year,
When we recall those past and pure delights,
And they far off unwilling, draw not near,
But in their stead the sad wind only sighs
And dull rain presses on the fallen leaf:—
Then we cast down behold, with bright surprise,
The clearing sky, whilst far away flies grief,
To overtake the west wind and the rain;—
And in the warmth we dwell with dear belief
This fairest time will never cease again;—
But short, though soothing sweet, is this relief,
For soon is gone the sun—cold mists draw near,
And love seems vanquished quite by trembling fear.