Anne Finch’s “Hope” opens with Eden’s two famous trees—the Tree of Knowledge, which we tasted and lost, and the Tree of Life, removed to heaven. Against that lost perfection, hope stands as a surprising earthly gift: the only plant neither heaven nor paradise needed to supply. Hell knows nothing of it; hope is ours alone, a reviving “cordial” for the human mind. The speaker’s voice is warm and pressing, like someone urging you to take a remedy you didn’t realize was already there. She frames hope as medicine prepared by God himself, not something to wave away. The mood is calmly insistent, free of sermonizing. Instead, it feels like a quiet, indoor truth—hope, right here in the dirt and worry of mortal life, the one thing that can still reach us.
Hope — Summary
The Tree of Knowledge we in Eden prov'd; The Tree of Life was thence to Heav'n remov'd: Hope is the growth of Earth, the only Plant, Which either Heav'n, or Paradise cou'd want.
Hell knows it not, to Us alone confin'd, And Cordial only to the Human Mind. Receive it then, t'expel these mortal Cares, Nor wave a Med'cine, which thy God prepares.