 | Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces |  |
48
XLV. TO A. H. H.
When youth is passing from my hoary head,And life's decline steals brightness from thine eye—
But that it cannot soon, nor quench the red
Upon thy cheek that hath so rich a dye—
Then of what crowns of fame may thou and I
Avow ourselves the gainers? with what balm
Of christian hope, devotionally calm,
Shall I be then anointed? will this sigh,
Born of distempered feeling, still come forth
As thus, unjoyous? or be left to die
Before the rapid and unpausing birth
Of joyous thoughts succeeding momently?
What would not such recoil of bliss be worth,
Replacing in our age this early loss of joy?
| Sonnets and Fugitive Pieces | |