Hope is but the dream of those who wake.

“Hope is but the dream of those who wake.” Thus spoke Matthew Prior, a poet of the age when reason and reverie still walked hand in hand. In this delicate line, he captured a truth that shimmers between worlds—the realm of sleep and the realm of life, the realm of dream and the realm of action. For hope, he tells us, is not the idle fantasy of the slumbering mind; it is the living dream of the soul that has opened its eyes to the light of day. The dreamer who sleeps may imagine glory, but the dreamer who wakes—he dares to build it.

To understand the meaning of these words, one must first know the difference between a dream and a delusion. A dream that belongs to sleep fades with the dawn—it has no hands, no breath, no labor. But hope is the dream that survives the sunrise. It is the vision that refuses to vanish when the world grows harsh. Those who wake and yet keep dreaming are the builders of nations, the healers of wounds, the seekers of wisdom. Hope is the bridge between the impossible and the real, between what is wished and what can be wrought.

The ancients too knew this truth well. They spoke of Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and gave it to mankind. Was this not the dream of a waking soul—a hope that refused submission to darkness? For Prometheus looked upon the cold faces of men, shivering in ignorance, and saw in them a spark of divinity. He endured pain, chains, and eternity itself for that hope, believing that through suffering and knowledge, humanity could ascend. His defiance was not foolishness; it was faith—faith that the dream of a better world must be carried by those strong enough to stay awake within it.

Hope, as Prior declares, is not born of ease, but of struggle. The one who wakes sees the world in all its imperfection, its cruelty, its sorrow—and yet still chooses to believe. This is no light thing. It is the courage of the soldier who walks toward battle believing peace can follow. It is the heart of the mother who plants a tree knowing she will not live to rest beneath its shade. It is the spirit of Anne Frank, who, in a time of horror, wrote, “I still believe, in spite of everything, that people are truly good at heart.” Her hope was not blind; it was blazing. It was the dream of one fully awake to suffering, yet unwilling to let the world’s darkness extinguish the flame within.

Thus, Prior’s words remind us that hope is not escape, but engagement. It is the fire that burns in the conscious soul. It does not close its eyes to despair—it looks upon it and says, “Still, I will believe.” The dreamer who wakes does not wait for miracles; he becomes one. Hope without action is fantasy, but hope joined with will is creation. Those who carry such hope walk the same road as the prophets, inventors, and poets who shaped the world with visions no one else could see.

Yet, beware, for hope is also a discipline. It must be guarded against the weariness of the world, fed by gratitude and purpose. To wake each morning and still dream—that is a sacred labor. The cynic sleeps though his eyes are open; the hopeful are awake though they sometimes weep. To keep dreaming in the daylight requires strength, for every dawn demands renewal. Hope, then, is not weakness, but the highest form of endurance—the soul’s vow to keep imagining light even when the night is long.

The lesson, dear listener, is clear: do not abandon your dreams when you awaken. Let them follow you into the sunlight. Work for them, bleed for them, build for them. Dream while you labor; hope while you strive. For the one who dreams only in sleep dies when he awakens—but the one who hopes while awake lives forever.

So when life’s storms rage and despair whispers that dreams are for fools, remember Matthew Prior’s words. Hope is but the dream of those who wake—and the world is shaped by such dreamers. Be among them. Keep your eyes open and your heart unbroken. Let your hope be not a refuge from reality, but a torch that illuminates it. And as long as that flame burns within you, you will never truly walk in darkness.