 | Poems and Poetical Fragments |  |
31
SONNET.
[Lady, I may not but indite to thee]
Lady, I may not but indite to theeOne grateful tribute of my verse, to tell
How sweetly fared my spirit and how well
In the pure air of thy society,
How cheered and how refreshed she back returned
Into this world's thick weary atmosphere;
And how she hath trimmed up and pointed clear
Her lamps of Faith and Hope that dimly burned.
Because thy talk hath been of Christ, and things
Hid in the bosom of eternal Love:
Because thy soul hath fixed her rest above,
And thither straining with unflagging wings
Pierceth in vision far beyond the ken
Of the proud multitude of reasoning men.
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