Poems By Richard Chenevix Trench: New ed |
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SONNET.
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88
SONNET.
[The commonest spot we cannot without pain]
The commonest spot we cannot without painRelinquish, where we tarried but a day,
And struck no roots, when to our hearts we say,
We ne'er shall look upon this spot again;
What wonder then if I can not restrain
Some sadness, turning from these haunts away,
Where we have many a month been free to stray
By verdant stream, o'er hill or pleasant plain—
A momentary sadness, yet which brings
Thanksgiving with it, gratitude for this,
That where we live, we cannot choose but love;
We make a friend of nature, until bliss
(Few guess how much), we daily, hourly prove
From the known aspect of familiar things.
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