 | Lectures on art, and poems |  |
347
SONNET.
IMMORTALITY.
To think for aye; to breathe immortal breath;And know nor hope, nor fear, of ending death;
To see the myriad worlds that round us roll
Wax old and perish, while the steadfast soul
Stands fresh and moveless in her sphere of thought;
O God, omnipotent! who in me wrought
This conscious world, whose ever-growing orb,
When the dead Past shall all in time absorb,
Will be but as begun,—O, of thine own,
Give of the holy light that veils thy throne,
That darkness be not mine, to take my place,
Beyond the reach of light, a blot in space!
So may this wondrous Life, from sin made free,
Reflect thy love for aye, and to thy glory be.
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