MOCK-ORANGE 
Counterfeit. 
I loved an ideal, 
I sought it in thee, 
I found it unreal 
As stars in the sea. 
And shall I, disdaining 
An instinct divine, 
By falsehood profaning 
That pure hope of mine; 
Shall I stoop from my vision, 
So lofty, so true, 
From the light, all Elysian, 
That round me it threw? 
Ah no! though all lonely 
On earth be my lot, 
I will brave it, if only 
That trust fail me not;— 
The trust that, in keeping 
All pure from control, 
The love that lies sleeping, 
And dreams in my soul, 
It may wake in some better 
And holier sphere, 
Unbound by the fetter k 
Fate hung on it here! 
