 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
229
FRANKNESS.
Are there no sympathies, no loves between us?Is my hope vain?—I have not vext thee long,
Nor lent thee thoughts from God or good to wean us,
Nor given thee words that warp from right to wrong:
And if, at times, mine independent song
Hath rung triumphantly,—doth it demean us,
That when a man feels hotly at his heart
The quick spontaneous fire of thoughts and words,
He will not play the hypocrite's ill part,
Flinging aside the meed his mind affords?
No! with all gratitude and humbleness
I claim mine own; nor can affect to scorn
A gift, of my Creator's goodness born,
His grace to give, my glory to possess.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |