Love and Hope

A voice within me whispered, " Hope is sped:
He will not stir again, so still he lies.
Alas! for all his sweet false prophecies.
Love sits and weeps above his silent bed;
His life is ended as a tune outplayed."
But while the voice was speaking in this wise.
My lady came and said, " Forbear thy sighs,
For sleep, not death, upon this hope is laid."

Thereat hope rose, and smiled a little space;
But after this came love to me, and said,
"No sleep but death now on thy hope is shed."
Then came my lady, and with steadfast gaze
Looked on me and passed by with bended face.
And so I knew that hope at last was dead.