 | Metrical Effusions |  |
125
SONNET TO------
Hast thou not, Lady! read how once of oldA bard crav'd audience of a duchess fair,
While he might sing of border chieftains rare,
But soon repented of his suit so bold?
So, when to my enchanted sight unfold
Of polish'd courtesy, the graceful air;
Of mental powers, an union rich and rare;
All verse of mine seems raptureless and cold.
Though bright the blaze of beauty, yet to me
It shines unheeded, if it shine alone,
Talents and wit offend me, when I see
The first abus'd, the last to malice prone
But freely does my heart their empire own
Resistless all; when all combin'd in thee.
| Metrical Effusions | |