 | Imaginary Sonnets |  |
66
ARABELLA STUART TO THE UNSEEN SPRING.
(1612.)
It must be Spring; a long bright slanting ray
Peeps daily in and warms my prison now;
While, through the bars, on which I rest my brow,
A twittering of swallows finds it way.
Peeps daily in and warms my prison now;
While, through the bars, on which I rest my brow,
A twittering of swallows finds it way.
The world must now be full of thorny may;
Bright speckled butterflies; young leaves that glow;
Ripe fragrant grass; fresh banks where wild bells grow;
Bleatings and whistlings, cuckoo notes all day.
Bright speckled butterflies; young leaves that glow;
Ripe fragrant grass; fresh banks where wild bells grow;
Bleatings and whistlings, cuckoo notes all day.
Thou peeping ray of Spring, go kiss the corn
That sprouts beneath the breeze, and never pry
Into this cell, where Misery pines forlorn;
That sprouts beneath the breeze, and never pry
Into this cell, where Misery pines forlorn;
Ye happy, happy swallows, that can fly
On Spring's own breath, oh, twitter not such scorn
Of earth, of woe, and of captivity!
On Spring's own breath, oh, twitter not such scorn
Of earth, of woe, and of captivity!
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