 | Miscellaneous poems |  |
119
SONNET III.
Yon cloud, which throws its dark and envious veil
Over the brow of the chaste queen of night,
Though it may shroud and make her radiance pale,
Catches itself a soft refracted light,
And its dark tints, in meditation's eye,
Sublimely grand are found;
Its sable folds contrasted by
The stream of liquid silver round.
Over the brow of the chaste queen of night,
Though it may shroud and make her radiance pale,
Catches itself a soft refracted light,
And its dark tints, in meditation's eye,
Sublimely grand are found;
Its sable folds contrasted by
The stream of liquid silver round.
Grown darker still, its silver rays are lost,
And one black curtain wraps the low'ring skies,
Shrouding the glorious planetary host,
While through the trees, the chill air mournful sighs;
And hark, how heavy falls the pattering show'r;
Shall man to murmur dare?
These clouds, this rain, cheers plant and flow'r,
To make the morn more fair.
And one black curtain wraps the low'ring skies,
Shrouding the glorious planetary host,
While through the trees, the chill air mournful sighs;
120
Shall man to murmur dare?
These clouds, this rain, cheers plant and flow'r,
To make the morn more fair.
So often o'er life's frail and transient joy,
Some unexpected sombre shade is thrown;
Its gloom the pleasure of the scene destroys,
And even Hope's pale trembling beam is gone;
But we, from this, may purest joys derive,
When the cloud breaks away;
Emerging from the gloom, should hope revive,
'Twill brighter make the day.
Some unexpected sombre shade is thrown;
Its gloom the pleasure of the scene destroys,
And even Hope's pale trembling beam is gone;
But we, from this, may purest joys derive,
When the cloud breaks away;
Emerging from the gloom, should hope revive,
'Twill brighter make the day.
| Miscellaneous poems | |