 | Poems |  |
232
SONNET.
[When I consider what our life hath been]
When I consider what our life hath been,How full of devious error, far astray
From paths of truth and that one only way,
And by what mercies, strange and unforeseen,
We have been brought unto the port serene
Of faith, which many missing never may
Reach the one haven of their rest,—I say,
Dulling the edge of sorrow, else too keen,—
How shall we make untimely moan for them,
How shall we mourn beside their early grave,
Who being washed in baptism's holy wave
From that first taint which doth us all condemn,
Passed from this evil world, and never aught
Of our life's darker stains from hence have caught?
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