A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems | ||
213
SONNET
TO THE SAME.
I looked on thee, dear Edward, as a friendBefore I knew thee; for, long ere we met
I heard thy praise from one not wont to let
His judgment lightly censure or commend.
What marvel, then, some pensive thoughts should blend
With thy loved converse; or that fond regret,
To his lamented worth a sacred debt,
At times on brightest moment should attend?
Yet prize I not our social hours the less
Because this tempering cloud is o'er them spread;
Glimpses of glory through its veil are shed,
And gleams of beauty, which the heart may bless:
So pure and precious parted worth's impress!
So beautiful the memory of the dead!
A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems | ||