A Hymn to Hope

That dreams may fly to where the green hills rise

Amid the gentleness of wave-filled meadows,

To feel one's silent footfalls lift above
                                                the raucous cries

And touch the undulating brook that flows 

                                     past ghostly shadows,

Long sentinels to where a shady bower lies.

In the searching ends where reason's found

A rising spirit sees its freedom now unbound.