 | Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies |  |
46
XLIII.
SONNET AT TONGEVILLE.
Somers,—if to thy courts the robin comesStill cheerily chirping,—and the gipsy throng
That, in the thorny thicket, hourly hums
In noon-day yellow, with a thoughtless song
That stirs with spleen the mockbird, 'till he pours,
Beneath thy very eaves, such resolute strain,
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'Till he has pleased to yield her ears again;—
If these surround thy footsteps, nor complain;—
If, in thy walks, the timorous dove appears,
Timorous no longer, nor inclined to flee;—
If these unharméd ones thus speak with me,—
Thou hast an evidence that nobly cheers,
And with no scruple I award it thee.
| Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies | |