Sonnets and Other Poems By John K. Ingram |
 | I. |
| II. | II. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
| XV. |
| XVI. |
| XVII. |
| XVIII. |
| XIX. |
| XX. |
| XXI. |
 | II. |
| III. |
 | Sonnets and Other Poems |  |
14
II. THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW.
Why should thy form upon the rack of pain—Thy delicate form—be stretch'd? who ever true
And tender wert, and pure as morning dew.
On me, whose soul was black with many a stain,
Which, but ill purg'd, would oft appear again,
Till thy sweet influence did my life renew—
On me, if justice some high Power could do,
The doom were laid this bitter cup to drain.
My burden is, that thine I cannot bear.
Nightly I listen with love-quicken'd ears
To the half-utter'd moan which thou would'st fain
Wholly suppress, my tortur'd heart to spare;
Then is my pillow drench'd with silent tears—
Oh could they profit!—but I weep in vain.
| Sonnets and Other Poems | |