 | The triumph of music |  |
101
SONNET.
DEVOUT composer of the stormy breast!
Heaven-gazing gratitude! I own thy power;
Friend of all seasons, and of every hour!
Thy active spirit, howsoe'er opprest,
Finds, in tempestuous woe, some point of rest,
Where, like a bird, within its guarded bower,
Thou hailst, with native harmony, (thy dower!)
The gleam of distant light, that gilds thy nest.
Heaven-gazing gratitude! I own thy power;
Friend of all seasons, and of every hour!
Thy active spirit, howsoe'er opprest,
Finds, in tempestuous woe, some point of rest,
Where, like a bird, within its guarded bower,
Thou hailst, with native harmony, (thy dower!)
The gleam of distant light, that gilds thy nest.
For all of good, that trouble may possess,
And for each gift, that yields the heart relief,
The great disposer of my lot I bless;
E'en for these lays, so simple, and so brief!
For they are soothing to my pangs of grief;
Oh might they soothe all similar distress!
And for each gift, that yields the heart relief,
The great disposer of my lot I bless;
E'en for these lays, so simple, and so brief!
For they are soothing to my pangs of grief;
Oh might they soothe all similar distress!
Manfredi.
| The triumph of music | |