Sixty-Five Sonnets With Prefatory Remarks on the Accordance of the Sonnet with the Powers of the English Language: Also, A Few Miscellaneous Poems [by Thomas Doubleday] |
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| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
| XXII. |
| XXIII. |
| XXIV. |
| XXV. | XXV. |
| XXVI. |
| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
| XXXI. |
| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
| LV. |
| LVI. |
| LVII. |
| LVIII. |
| LIX. |
| LX. |
| LXI. |
| LXII. |
| LXIII. |
| LXIV. |
| LXV. |
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 | Sixty-Five Sonnets |  |
51
XXV.
Pour, till the wine peep o'er its crystal pale,And pledge the falter'd name each deemeth best;
Most of your loves are in their bud, and drest
In comely smiles, and never felt an ail;
Oh, my Miranda! yet I not bewail
The troubled turmoils that our love opprest;
By them was given that keener, finer zest
Which can alone with our existence fail.
Love is this purple stream; as cloying sweet
As this, first summon'd from the bending vine,
As little lasting in its tender prime,
It is the trying struggles that refine
And nurse a juice, for highest hearts most meet,
Pure, sparkling, strong, a juice that smiles at time.
| Sixty-Five Sonnets | |