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 XIX. 
SONNET XIX. TO SCENES OF IMAGINATION.
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112

SONNET XIX. TO SCENES OF IMAGINATION.

World of imagination, ever fair,
And ever happy! when my spirit flies
Away to thee, how little do I care
For things of worldly thought! for all that lies
Around me on the earth! for with my eyes
Withdrawn from toilsome life to thee, I share
Thy fairer scenes that then before me rise,
Nor noisy strife, nor haughty pride is there.
Sweet world of Fancy! if I could but keep
My soul in thee away from care and strife,
And from the tyranny of worldly pride,
Then might my soul-enslaving passions sleep,
And virtue in its strength uphold my life,
Nor let my soul so frequently backslide.