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Sungleams

Rondeaux and Sonnets. By the Rev. Richard Wilton
Wilton, Richard
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]

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RONDEAUX.
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SONNETS.
 I. 
I. FROSTED TREES.
 III. 
III. THE SWAN.
 IV. 
IV. YEWBERRIES ON THE SNOW.
 VI. 
VI. A LADY'S CHAMBER.
 VIII. 
VIII. DUNMORE WOODS.
 IX. 
IX. HOPE IS THE WINDOW.
 X. 
X. THE SEASIDE IN WINTER.
 XI. 
XI. THE SOOTHING OF NATURE.
 XII. 
XII. A PRAYER IN TIME OF TROUBLE.
 XIII. 
XIII. “SOMETHING FOR EVERY DAY.”
 XIV. 
XIV. THE MAGNET AND THE MOON.
 XV. 
XV. GLIMPSES.
 XVI. 
XVI. PRE-INTIMATIONS.
 XVII. 
XVII. THE REFLECTION IN THE LAKE.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. A THOUGHT IN A GREENHOUSE.
 XIX. 
XIX. THE FIRSTBORN.
 XX. 
XX. “A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM.”
 XXI. 
XXI. ON A DOVE WHICH FLEW AGAINST MY STUDY WINDOW.
 XXII. 
XXII. A CONFIRMATION.
 XXV. 
XXV. ON AN OLD UPRAISED SEA-BEACH IN DUNMORE PARK.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. ON VISITING ARRAN AND LOCHGOIL-HEAD.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. ON THE MOUNTAINS ROUND LOCH SHIEL,
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. TO A FRIEND ABOUT TO RESIDE IN JERUSALEM.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. ON MY BLUE HARE,
 XXX. 
XXX. ON MY BLUE HARE BEGINNING TO TURN WHITE.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. A LESSON OF TRUST.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. SWEET THOUGHTS AND SAD THOUGHTS,
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. ON THE DEATH OF “BLUEY,” MY HIGHLAND HARE.
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. ST. JOHN AND THE PARTRIDGE.
 XXXV. 
XXXV. THE BLACK ROCK;
 XXXVII. 
XXXVII. ON A GLEN WITHOUT A NAME
 XXXVIII. 
XXXVIII. ORANSAY;
 XXXIX. 
XXXIX. A FAREWELL TO GLENCRIPISDALE.
 XL. 
XL. ULLESWATER UNDER A CLOUD.
 XLI. 
XLI. ON SEEING SOME BIRDS IN WINTER
 XLII. 
XLII. AFTER READING TENNYSON'S “IDYLLS OF THE KING.”
 XLIII. 
XLIII. ON A FERN-LEAF
 XLIV. 
XLIV. ON AN AVENUE AT GRASBY VICARAGE,
 XLV. 
XLV. IN MEMORY OF CHARLES TENNYSON-TURNER,
 XLVI. 
XLVI. LAST LOOKS,
 XLVII. 
XLVII. ON THE SWORD OF A FRENCH NAVAL OFFICER,
 XLVIII. 
XLVIII. ON THE PROPOSED RESTORATION OF LONDESBOROUGH CHURCH
 XLIX. 
XLIX. THE MIRROR OF THE WORD
 L. 
L. THE CHURCH REOPENING WEEK.
  
VALEDICTORY.

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100

XXXIII. ON THE DEATH OF “BLUEY,” MY HIGHLAND HARE.

O'er my poor dying pet I breathed a sigh,
And stroked its smooth fur with caressing hand
Of pity, which it seemed to understand,
And answer with its melancholy eye.
I thought of birds and beasts that creep to die
In many a lonely corner of the land,
Amid still woods and mountains wild and grand,
With no kind touch of help or solace nigh.
“O pain and death,” I cried, “what a dark pall
Ye spread o'er this fair world and creatures bright,
Whose innocence might shield them from your thrall:’
But lo! the gloom is pierced by soothing light—
“Without your Father not one life shall fall;”
“Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?”
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