 | Poems (1797) |  |
172
SONNET IV. To a FRIEND.
Congiunte eran gl' alberghi,
Ma più congiunti i cori:
Conforme era l'etate,
Ma'l pensier più conforme.
Ma più congiunti i cori:
Conforme era l'etate,
Ma'l pensier più conforme.
Oft when I sit me down musing on those
Whom I should love in a low cot to greet;
Whose quiet spirits make retirement sweet,
And simple souls: Fancy, my Thomas! goes
To thee most cheerily; for kindliness,
Yea, all that my heart seeks for, when I bend
O'er the warm hearth imagining a Friend,
Endear Thee to me! Yet Thou wilt not bless
The healthsome board of meek equality!
Still when my heart is fullest, and I brood
173
Thy name with feelings not to be withstood
Shall tremble on my tongue; and I will send
Many kind wishes to my purest friend!
| Poems (1797) | |