When the weary night is fled,
And the morning sky is red,
Then my heart doth rise and say,
`Surely she will come to-day.'
In the golden blaze of noon,
`Surely she is coming soon.'
In the twilight, `Will she come?'
Then my heart with fear is dumb.
When the night wind in the trees
Plays its mournful melodies,
Then I know my trust is vain,
And she will not come again.
Hope Deferred
Robert Fuller Murray
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Poem topics: fear, red, sky, trust, wind, rise, morning, golden, Valentine's Day, heart, night, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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