BETA

Sonnet.

And must I perish thus ?— a nameless tomb1
Where few shall weep :— some days of
writhing pain,2
Ere yet I sink :— some hopes that still re-
main3
Though Reason mock at them :— is this my
doom ?—4
Oft have I sate in silence—then the mind5
Was busy, and its images serene6
Seemed some dim outlines of the future, seen7
In the deep distance, shadowy, undefined :8
Then did I weep in very weariness9
Of Earth, and wished, how longingly ! to
leave10
This cheerless world, and, having ceased to
grieve,11
For ever dwell in realms of blessedness !12
Heaven hears the prayer, and hastes the
boon to give,13
The wasting victim sighs and prays—to
live !14