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 |  |
77
LI.
'Twas here she slept,—beneath this branching shade;Here,—on this bank, with thick'ning flowers bespread;
Here,—where mine eyes long linger'd, rivetted
Upon the faint impressure still that staid;
But, hither when, with morn, my footsteps stray'd,
Each ingrate flower had lifted up its head,
And every trace where she had been was fled;
Oh! would that from this heart e'en so might fade
The mem'ry of her form; that, long disused
To happiness, my bosom might obtain
Again the calm that it, 'ere while, possess'd;
And life's first, fairest flow'rs, too rudely bruised,
Lifting, like these, their slender stems again,
Outgrow the traces of the ill that press'd.
| Sixty-Five Sonnets | |