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My Sonnets

[by W. C. Bennett]

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WRITTEN IN GREENWICH PARK.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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36

WRITTEN IN GREENWICH PARK.

The earth o'erflows with gladness: nature makes
No thing she wills not, living, to enjoy
Delights that suit its nature. “Cares annoy,
“Disease torments, and haggard misery shakes
“The strength of manhood in us; sorrow takes
“Its dwelling often with us; some alloy
“Our happiness hath surely?” Yes,—yet joy
And life were meant for one. The sunshine wakes
The insect, in the wilderness of grass,
To know but pleasure through its life-long day.
Existence were but gladness, did we pass
On to its goal but learning to obey
Its natural laws. If known, not kept, alas,
Are these, and hence such ills infest our way.
September 17th, 1843.