Sixty-Five Sonnets With Prefatory Remarks on the Accordance of the Sonnet with the Powers of the English Language: Also, A Few Miscellaneous Poems [by Thomas Doubleday] |
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 | Sixty-Five Sonnets |  |
73
XLVII.
From the unbarring to the shut of day,Aye, oft' times restless in the midnight blind,
His loss I mourn; it lies upon my mind
Like a thick mist, that will not clear away,
But bodes and brings grief's showers. His was a sway
Of soul so gentle, we alone might find,
Not see its strength; a wit that, ever kind,
Would spare the humbled in its freest play.
A silent, boastless stream, smooth, clear, but deep;
His mighty powers attired themselves so plain
They drew no worship though they won the heart:
Now he is gone, we waken from the sleep,
But, as of visiting Gods the poets feign,
We knew him not till turning to depart.
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