Early Hopes.

In the morning I expected,
That I should long, long ere now,
All my eager foes have conquered,
That a crown should grace my brow
War and tumult,
Still distress my wearied ears.

In an agony of longing,
I await the signal day,
When my fetters shall be broken,
When from earth I fly away;
And for tumults,
Hear alone the songs of heaven.

Favorite Welsh Hymns, 1854