University of Virginia Library


19

SONNET XXVII. DIVINE PITY.

I wonder when you gain the happy place,
And walk above the marvel of the skies,
And see the brows of God, and large sweet eyes
Of Christ look lovingly upon your face,
And find the friends of unforgotten days,—
Will you, some time in that fair Paradise,
While all its peaceful light around you lies,
To greet your lover lost, your dear eyes raise?
And when at length this thing you come to know,—
How he, forbid to pass the heavenly bourne,
Through undreamed distance roves with shades forlorn,—
Will you be sorry, and, with eyes bent low,
Wander apart the sudden wound to hide,
And, meeting Mary, turn your face aside?