Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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SONNET.
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181
SONNET.
[Would, from the o'erflowings of Youth's honeyed Urn]
Would, from the o'erflowings of Youth's honeyed Urn,That we might hoard one precious drop and pure,
The gnawing anguish of vain thirst to cure—
Or, at the least, to make less fierce—when burn
All the after-fevers in our Hearts—that mourn
For things that ne'er again shall charm—allure;
For earthly good is made not to endure;
And earthly hopes, once lost, shall scarce return!
Ah! from that Urn one sweet drop could we hoard,
To soothe the fiery pangs of our distress,
When all we lose is bitterly deplored!
But for one pure and precious drop to bless,
To soothe, to charm us—(in our deep hearts stored)—
With something like our own lost happiness!
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