Sonnet.
Believe it not : life is not storm, but peace,1
The peace that comes when storms have died away ;2
The calm that crowns some fiery battle day3
By Persian fought on plains of ancient Greece,4
When vanquished sink in death, and conquerors cease5
From weariness to strike ; and closes night6
O’er both her dark and drowsy wing—Life’s might7
Our conquered passions prove ; our soul’s release8
From shameful bonds. Say we live when, serene9
We stand upon this sad life’s second shore,10
Our youth behind ; the flood of time between11
Two lives—then smile at griefs whose sting is o’er,12
At joys that can delude the heart no more,13
And thoughtful dream of passions that have been.14