 | Areytos or songs and ballads of the South |  |
409
SONNET.—THERE IS A MOOD.
There is a mood that sometimes makes us cry,In very weariness of soul: “'Twere well,
Methinks, if I could lay me down and die!—
There is no terror in the solemn knell
That ushers to the grave, which gently opes
Its peaceful arms, and promises repose
From vexing strifes and still deceiving hopes,
Friends failing, and the sleepless herd of foes.”
And then we find similitude in things
Beneath us, the poor leaf and flow'r which dread
The blight of winter, and the recoiling springs
That shiver as the wind sweeps overhead!—
Thus fevering, till awakes the manlier mood,
When we go forth and conquer in warm blood.
| Areytos or songs and ballads of the South | |