Poems by William Kendall | ||
60
XII. SONNET.
[Console a mourner, nymphs! no longer coy]
Console a mourner, nymphs! no longer coy,Frown on my blighted youth: from cares I fly.
The mellow beamings of an artless eye,
The blush of innocence, the breath of joy,
Enchanting accents, smiles that chase annoy,
Ye will not, cannot to a wretch deny,
Whom lingering misery condemns to sigh,
Till pity's tear the flame of grief destroy.
No venal slave am I, the muse's scorn,
No base idolater of filthy gold—
Victim of beauty's power, with passion lorn,
The sport of fortune, virgins, ye behold.
Unveil your charms! recall hope's vernal morn!
E'er shades of endless sleep my form enfold!
Poems by William Kendall | ||