Sonnet.
To * * *
Nay, Sweet, ’tis nothing new ! What though
the light1
Of your life’s love first break upon you now,2
What though its radiance shine from your pure brow,3
Telling of some great day beyond our night—4
What though your gracious kindness melt the snows5
Of world-worn weary hearts, and cannot cease6
To gladden his who, finding you, finds peace—7
Yet ’tis no change. You are not one of those8
Love lifts from drear December into May ;9
On us, your nearest, you have ever shed10
May’s healing charm while snows lay thick around ;11
’Tis but the essence of a perfect day.12
In his true eyes your truth with truth doth wed,13
And by his love your sweet life’s love is crowned.14