University of Virginia Library

INFANCY.

A SONNET.

O Infancy! thou envy of the crowd!
For thou feel'st not the tauntings of the proud;
Exempted art from all the hopes and fears
Whence lean Solicitude but smiles in tears.
Secure from all Temptation's magic snares,
Rapt in unconsciousness, thou can'st not sin;
While all around thee, groaning with their cares,
Despairing droop, thou smil'st at peace within.
Yet I but pity thy imbecile reign;
Unconscious life is but a dream of death:
Beshrew the dastard who can covet breath,
To wear his spirit in a passive chain!
Sprung from a God, with energy be mine
Of bounteous zeal to prove my source divine!