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43
SONNET
TO LOUISA.
In the deep stillness of a summer even,The noiseless death-hour of departing day!
Oftimes I haunt thy grave: the breeze from Heaven
Brings me thy voice—beside me lies thy clay!
A happy task! to watch thy lowly bed,
Peaceful, without a tear!—in earlier days,
I wept in torrents for that thou wast dead,
But now my love a calmer tribute pays!
Nursed by Affliction many a lengthened year,
My heart hath ceased to harbour vain regret,
But cherishes this thought—that thou art near,
And hoverest ever round thy brother yet!
I hear thy voice in every breeze that blows,
And intercourse with thine my happy spirit knows!
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