The One Hope by Richard Coe

A single wither'd leaf is left
Upon the forest tree,
By angry winds and storms bereft
Of other company:
And though its friends have long since gone,
The wither'd leaf still clingeth on!

So one fond hope within my breast
Remaineth there alone;
Unlike the falsely-flattering rest,
That long, long since have flown—
This single hope yet clingeth there,
To save my soul from dark despair!

It is—that when my hour shall come
To lie beneath the sod,
That angels take my spirit home
To commune with her God!
Let storms assail me as they will,
This one blest hope sustains me still!