Sonnets written chiefly during a tour through Holland, Germany, Italy, Turkey, and Hungary. By Lady Emmeline Stuart Wortley |
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SONNET.
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93
SONNET.
[Yes! Morning comes, in roseate splendour seen]
Yes! Morning comes, in roseate splendour seen,The flowers like many-jewelled trophies show!
And into lovelier Beauty blush and blow,
Of diamond-emerald seems this dewed turf green;
Music is heard through all the air serene!—
Like one continuing stream, how doth it flow—
Emparadising sense and spirit so!—
On Nature's heart now let her children lean,
Glad Morning!—gracious Nature!—'tis in vain
My soul is held and fettered!—'tis not free,
For I am Victim of Love's costly pain!
Still through his light alone mine eyes can see
Another Sun must rise, or this must wane:—
Rise on the Sun, then, Love!—and rise for me!
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