<html xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><body><h1 align="center" class="head">Optimism</h1><div class="stanza"><p class="line"><span class="smallcaps">At</span> last there'll dawn the last of the long year,</p><p class="line">Of the long year that seemed to dream no end,</p><p class="line">Whose every dawn but turned the world more drear,</p><p class="line">And slew some hope, or led away some friend.</p><p class="line">Or be you dark, or buffeting, or blind,</p><p class="line">We care not, day, but leave not death behind.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">The hours that feed on war go heavy-hearted,</p><p class="line">Death is no fare wherewith to make hearts fain.</p><p class="line">Oh, we are sick to find that they who started</p><p class="line">With glamour in their eyes came not again.</p><p class="line">O day, be long and heavy if you will,</p><p class="line">But on our hopes set not a bitter heel.</p></div><div class="stanza"><p class="line">For tiny hopes like tiny flowers of Spring</p><p class="line">Will come, though death and ruin hold the land,</p><p class="line">Though storms may roar they may not break the wing</p><p class="line">Of the earthed lark whose song is ever bland.</p><p class="line">Fell year unpitiful, slow days of scorn,</p><p class="line">Your kind shall die, and sweeter days be born.</p></div><p class="byline">A. Victor Ratcliffe</p></body></html> · Great War