SONNET 1. THERE is a virtue, which to fortune's height Where dwell the ills of life, disease and woe, Holds on its steady course, serenely bright: So some lone star, whose softly beaming light We mark not, in the blaze of solar day, Comes forth with pure and ever-constant ray, That makes e'en beautiful the gloom of night. Thou art that star, so beauteous and so lone, That virtue of distress, FIDELITY, And thou, when every joy and hope is flown, Cling'st to the relics of humanity, Making, with all its sorrows, life still dear, And death, with all its terrors, void of fear. B SONNET II. INEUNTE ANNO 1822. I've seen my day, before its noon, decline, Can Hope, with all the magic of her glass, First wakens, and then keeps alive the flame; But patience must itself, itself sustain, And must itself reward, nor care to find The praise, or the compassion of mankind. SONNET III. The six following Sonnets were written on a Voyage from MADEIRA, loveliest isle of isles, farewell! If, nurs'd in odorous bowers by zephyrs mild, Of health and peace Contentment were the child, Well might Contentment love green Funchal's dell. But oft, alas! the youthful soul will swell With restless thoughts, and feed on visions wild, Till, by Ambition's serpent-tongue beguil'd, 'Tis pain, in happiness secure, to dwell. Then happy, but inglorious Isle, adieu! Yet deem I, when the health you gave is When novelty's and glory's brilliant hue gone, From the bright summer-skies of life is flown, Then haply shall I turn again to you, Nor wish again to leave your valleys lone. SONNET IV. O THOU pale Sun! that wrapp'd in mist and cloud, For bleak o'er ocean blows the northern gale, But, like some shield, thou twinklest thro' thy veil, And now with ease art gaz'd upon again; Darkness and cold reclaim the billowy plain, And I may weave a fresh, and haply fruitless strain. |