What foolish hope I nurture,
As fool's hope nurtures me;
And we watch over each other,
Foolish hope and me.
I smile when I am broken,
For hope shall mend my heart;
With rickety little stitches,
Easily pulled apart;
But that's no great a trouble,
She'll stitch it back again;
Keeping my heart beating,
Loving-- though in vain.
Blows will come to harm me,
And this hope I've kindled long;
For they say I must stop hoping,
For hoping now is wrong;
But if it keeps me happy,
And if it keeps me sane;
What fault is there in hoping,
Though hoping be in vain?
This foolish hope I nurture,
And in turn it nurtures me;
We keep fooling one another,
Foolish hope and me.
