 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
25
MY FIRST PROOF-SHEETS.
The proof is in my hand; this very dayLast year my earliest sonnet I achieved,
But when I wrote it who could have believed
That coiled behind it such a lengthy lay
Was waiting, that the words I had to say
Would fill the paper I have just received,
That thus my brain was thickly interleaved
With sheets to be redeemed without delay?
Well, well, the first-fruits of my work are here,
But where are those “fair eyes” of which I wrote
That made my sonnet's melody so dear?
And where alas! the form that seemed to float
As graceful as a maiden in a boat
Along the lines I struggling bent to rear?
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