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The Dream and Other Poems

By the Hon'ble Mrs Norton
Norton, Caroline Sheridan (1808-1877)
  
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[section]
  
DEDICATION.
  
THE DREAM.
  
THE CREOLE GIRL;
  
TWILIGHT.
  
A DESTINY.
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MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
  
THE CHAPEL ROYAL ST. JAMES'S,
  
ON SEEING ANTHONY, THE ELDEST CHILD OF LORD AND LADY ASHLEY.
  
THE DYING HOUR.
  
I CANNOT LOVE THEE!
  
THE POET'S CHOICE.
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THE GERMAN STUDENT'S LOVE-SONG.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
  
THE HUNTING-HORN OF CHARLEMAGNE.
  
THE FAITHFUL FRIEND.
  
TO FERDINAND SEYMOUR.
  
THE WINTER'S WALK.
  
THE REPRIEVE.
  
THE FAITHFUL GUARDIAN.
  
THE FORSAKEN.
  
THE VISIONARY PORTRAIT.
  
THE PICTURE OF SAPPHO.
  
THE SENSE OF BEAUTY.
  
THE MOTHER'S HEART.
  
MAY-DAY, 1837.
  
THE FEVER-DREAM.
  
TO THE LADY H. O.
  
THE FALLEN LEAVES.
  
THE AUTUMN WIND.
  
THE BLIND MAN'S BRIDE.
  
THE WIDOW TO HER SON'S BETROTHED.
  
THE TRYST.
  
THE BANNER OF THE COVENANTERS.
  
THE ROCK OF THE BETRAYED.
  
THE LAMENT FOR SHUIL DONALD'S DAUGHTER.
  
WEEP NOT FOR HIM THAT DIETH.
  
THE CHILD OF EARTH.
  
THE CHRISTENING.
  
THE MOTHER'S LAST WATCH.
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SONNETS.
 I. 
SONNET I. ON SEEING THE BUST OF THE YOUNG PRINCESS DE MONTFORT
 II. 
SONNET II. RAPHAEL.
 III. 
SONNET III. THE FORNARINA.
 IV. 
SONNET IV.
 V. 
SONNET V.
 VI. 
SONNET VI.
 VII. 
SONNET VII.
 VIII. 
SONNET VIII. O MY BOOKS.
 IX. 
SONNET IX. TO THE COUNTESS HELÉNE ZAVADOWSKY.
 X. 
SONNET X. TO TAGLIONI.
 XI. 
SONNET XI. THE MOSS-WALK AT MARKLY, SUSSEX.
 XII. 
SONNET XII. THE DISDAINED LOVER.
 XIII. 
SONNET XIII. THE WEAVER.
 XIV. 
SONNET XIV.
 XV. 
SONNET XV. TO MISS AUGUSTA COWELL.
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PRINCESS MARIE OF WIRTEMBURG.
 XVI. 
SONNET XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
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ON HEARING OF THE DEATH OF THE COUNTESS OF BURLINGTON.
 XVIII. 
SONNET XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.

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295

SONNET XIII. THE WEAVER.

Little they think, the giddy and the vain,
Wandering at pleasure 'neath the shady trees,
While the light glossy silk or rustling train
Shines in the sun or flutters in the breeze,
How the sick weaver plies the incessant loom,
Crossing in silence the perplexing thread,
Pent in the confines of one narrow room,
Where droops complainingly his cheerless head:—
Little they think with what dull anxious eyes,
Nor by what nerveless, thin, and trembling hands,
The devious mingling of those various dyes
Were wrought to answer Luxury's commands:
But the day cometh when the tired shall rest,—
Where weary Lazarus leans his head on Abraham's breast!
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