University of Virginia Library

SONNETS.

[I. Winter is now around me, and the snow]

Winter is now around me, and the snow
Has thrown its mantle over herb, tree, flower:
The icicle has tapestried the bower,
And in a crystal sheet the rivers flow;
And mustering from the north, at evening, blow
The hollow winds, and through the star-lit hour
Shake from the icy wood a rattling shower,
That tinkles on the glassy crust below;
And Morning rises in a saffron glow,
Pouring her splendor through the fretted grove,
In tints that round the heart enchantment throw,
Like what the Graces in their girdle wove;
And shining on the mountain's frosted brow,
That o'er the gilded landscape looks afar,
Her kindling beams the virgin mantle strow
With drops of gold, that twinkle like a star.

[II. Its bitterness the heart alone can know]

Its bitterness the heart alone can know,—
The blight, the death of hope, and love, and fame;
The fire that all can dim, and none can tame;
Departed peace, which time can ne'er bestow;
The tender feelings of unsullied years,
When earth and heaven are beautiful and bright,
When nothing dims the eye's serenest light,
And life is fairer seen through innocent tears.
O, who would wear the tedious years away,
That hang around us like a rusted chain,
Clinging the closer each dull, joyless day,
And printing all its links in scars of pain,
O, who can feel this bitterness of heart,
This death-like chill, that curdles all the soul,
This ever-writhing round a venomed dart,
Nor keenly wish to reach life's final goal.

[III. What bird can sing when storms are in the sky]

What bird can sing when storms are in the sky,
When flowers and verdure from the turf are gone?
How can the nighted traveller carol on
When winds are loud, and lightning flashes by?
How can the lip smile, when all prospects die,
When earth is but one cold and lifeless waste?
And how can pleasure brighten up the eye,
When hope has, like a lovely night-dream, passed,—
When days are lingering onward dark and slow,
And suns arise, but brightly shine no more,—
When gloom has covered all that charmed below,
And nothing lures us on,—when life is o'er?
The heart has then no fountain of delight,
The eye has then no spirit to illume;
A worse than death has withered with its blight
All hope's fair visions, and all fancy's bloom.

[IV. The blue heaven spreads before me, with its keen]

The blue heaven spreads before me, with its keen
And countless eyes of brightness,—worlds are there,—
The boldest spirit cannot spring and dare
The peopled universe, that burns between
This earth and Nothing.—Thought can wing its way
Swifter than lightning flashes, or the beam
That hastens on the pinions of the morn;
But quicker than the glowing dart of day
It tires and faints along the starry stream,
A wave of suns through boundless ether borne.—
Though infinite, eternal! yet one power
Sits on the Almighty centre, whither tend
All worlds and beings from time's natal hour,
Till suns and all their satellites shall end.