 | Poems |  |
153
SONNET.
[Oh, deem not, though her spirit hath defied]
Oh, deem not, though her spirit hath defiedScandal, and Scorn, the taunts of lying lips,
That Pride hath clouded it with stern eclipse:—
—The stream reflects the wild-flower on his side,
Dimples serenely, as the swallow dips
An idle wing, but, mocking at the force
That would restrain him from his own free course,
Rolls on rejoicingly in tranquil pride;
And thus shall she rejoice of whom I speak,
Who listens heedless to the slanderer's voice,
Feelings subdued—a heart resigned and meek
—The eye of Heaven that smiles upon her choice—
That inward peace, which all shall find, who seek,—
These are her gifts, and shall she not rejoice?
1816.
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