 | Poems |  |
INTRODUCTORY SONNET.
From the lone silence of my dreamless cell
A wizard voice hath call'd me:—I obey,
And fain would greet that summons with a lay
Which should outshine my brightest.—Oh! 'tis well,
That the last notes that ever this weak shell
Perchance shall utter, thus should melt away,
Hymning the name of that most gentle fay
That e'er on Poet's spirit laid a spell!
A wizard voice hath call'd me:—I obey,
And fain would greet that summons with a lay
Which should outshine my brightest.—Oh! 'tis well,
That the last notes that ever this weak shell
Perchance shall utter, thus should melt away,
Hymning the name of that most gentle fay
That e'er on Poet's spirit laid a spell!
Come, my own Muse—thou Feeling, who dost rest
In my heart's inmost sanctuary; thou
Who art the soul of all my musings blest,
Dreams, wishes, hopes, affections! aid me now
To twine for Her, the brightest and the best,
A wreath which shall not shame her peerless brow.
In my heart's inmost sanctuary; thou
Who art the soul of all my musings blest,
Dreams, wishes, hopes, affections! aid me now
To twine for Her, the brightest and the best,
A wreath which shall not shame her peerless brow.
| Poems | |