 | The heavenly guest with other unpublished writings |  |
17
SONNET
O were I loved as I desire to be!What is there in the great sphere of the earth
Or range of evil between death and birth
That I should fear, if I were loved by thee?
All the inner, all the outer world of pain
Clear love would pierce and cleave, if thou wast mine;
As I have heard that somewhere in the main
Fresh water springs come up through bitter brine,
'Twere joy, not fear, clasped hand in hand with thee,
To wait for death,—mute, careless of all ills
Apart upon a mountain, tho' the surge
Of some new deluge from a thousand hills
Flung leagues of roaring foam into the gorge
Below us, as far as eye could see!
| The heavenly guest with other unpublished writings | |