 | Poems and Plays |  |
185
SONNET I.
While on my head kind Fortune deign'd to pourHer lavish boons, and through my willing soul
Made tides of extasy and pleasure roll,
I sung the raptures of each passing hour.
But Love, who heard me praise the golden shower,
Resolv'd my fond presumption to controul;
And painful darkness o'er my spirit stole,
Lest I should dare to tell his treacherous power.
187
To others' will, if in my various lay
Sad plaints ye find, and fears, and cruel wrong,
To suffering nature and to truth attend;
For in the measure ye have felt his sway,
Your sympathizing hearts will feel my song.
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