"Hopes are but the dreams of those that wake"

Matthew Prior’s words draw a subtle boundary between hope and dream, inviting reflection on the nature of conscious aspiration versus subconscious fantasy. Dreams, in the common understanding, are the ephemeral shapes that drift through the mind during sleep, liberated from the constraints of logic or reality. They enchant or frighten, but ultimately belong to a world detached from waking life, often dissolving with the morning light. Yet hope, as Prior suggests, is not so different at heart, it is the dream transposed into the domain of those who are awake and alert. Hope becomes the waking counterpart of nocturnal imaginings, inheriting the same yearning, vision, and possibility, yet unconstrained by the passivity of sleep.

To harbor hope is to quietly dare to dream, even while the world’s hard edges press upon one’s perceptions. The waking person is no less subject to longing and fantasy than the dreamer; their visions, however, persist during daylight hours, coloring intentions and shaping choices. Hope is the subtle force that animates the waking dream, permitting individuals to imagine new realities, strive for distant goals, and persevere against odds. In some ways, hope is more audacious than dream, for it endures challenges and setbacks, refusing to relinquish its hold even as reality asserts itself.

Prior hints at a shared vulnerability between the dreamer and the hopeful. Both rely on mental constructs not fully founded in present fact, they are acts of faith and imagination. Yet, where dreams die at dawn and rarely influence waking life, hopes live on, shaping action and resilience. To call hopes “but the dreams of those that wake” gently elevates both, acknowledging the deeply human need to imagine better things, awake or asleep. It suggests that every hopeful thought is a waking dream, propelling the individual toward transformation, and reminds us that hope, though fragile and perhaps illusory, is essential to the waking soul.