Sonnet.
In my life’s Pilgrimage, as I count o’er1
Its pleasures, sorrows, dullness, joy, and pain,2
Short hours of triumph—disappointments sore—3
Hopes, fears, and wishes—balanced loss and gain—4
Youth’s wasted hours, and love bestowed in vain :5
Of the long catalogue, there but remain,6
Like bright spots, where my spirit loves to rest,7
Sweet thoughts of those whom, with enduring chain8
Of kindness, I have bound close to my breast.9
I feel a love which I can not explain,10
For them, as though some little better part,11
Of the true nature of this wayward heart,12
In cherished safety was with them embalmed,13
To live, when in the unanswering grave its tumults
shall be calmed.14
shall be calmed.14