 | Lays of Melpomene |  |
SONNET.
Lord of my bosom's love, a last FareweThe tears of Time bedew the burning throes
Of agony, and maniac pain compose
To sadness, that becomes thought's magic spell;
The musings drear of hopelessness to tell
Would tire the gay; a tale of bitter woes
To mirth doth bring alloy, and pleasure's rose
Would vanish at the sound of death's deep knell.
The hopes, the fancies and the follies—all
The subtle means employed to brighten life
Shall live and be with sweet delusion rife
Long ere I throw o'er them their sable pall.
Though brightest feelings and most fond desires,
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For few brief moments in the view endure,
They glitter, while they be, with magic fires;
And, like the sea the setting sun beneath,
Life loveliest looks when sinking into Death.
| Lays of Melpomene | |