 | The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival |  |
SONNET.
Again farewell,—perchance a last adieu!
Our meeting was in loneliness and tears,
For life looked frowning on my early years,
And the bright moments of my youth were few.
I longed to meet a bosom, fond and true,
Where I might find a heart that beat with mine;
I imaged out a beauty all divine,
And there the homage of my soul I threw.
Our meeting was in loneliness and tears,
For life looked frowning on my early years,
And the bright moments of my youth were few.
I longed to meet a bosom, fond and true,
Where I might find a heart that beat with mine;
I imaged out a beauty all divine,
And there the homage of my soul I threw.
Vain were those fond illusions! O, as vain
The light of fame, that drew my spirit on
To climb with patient step the lofty fane,
Whereon the brightest wreath of mind is won,
And on the proudest height of glory gain
The twine of bay, that crowns her chosen one.
The light of fame, that drew my spirit on
To climb with patient step the lofty fane,
Whereon the brightest wreath of mind is won,
And on the proudest height of glory gain
The twine of bay, that crowns her chosen one.
| The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | |