 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
123
PEACE AND QUIETNESS.
Peace is the precious atmosphere I breathe;And my calm mind goes to her dewy bower,
A trellis rare of fragrant thoughts to wreathe,
Mingling the scents and tints of every flower;
For pity, vex her not; those inner joys
That bless her in this consecrated hour,
Start and away, like plovers at a noise,
Sensitive, timorous:—O do not scare
My happy fancies, lest the flock take wing,
Fly to the wilderness and perish there!
For I have secret luxuries, that bring
Gladness and brightness to mine eyes and heart,
Memory, and Hope, and keen Imagining,
Sweet thoughts and peaceful, never to depart.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |