 | Poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne |  |
SONNET.
The glorious star of morning would we blameBecause it burns not on the front of night?
Or the calm evening planet, that her light
Foretells not sunrise, with its herald-flame?
All things that are should subtly own the same,
Eternal law! the stars shine on aright,
Each in his sphere; the souls of Love and Might
Their separate bounds of grace or grandeur claim;
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Should justice fix for judgment; the true soul,
Which sways its own world in serene control,
Highest or humblest—such the Master's call
Shall summon upward, with its deep “well done,”
And the just Father crown his faithful son!
| Poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne | |