Page:Elegiac Sonnets and Other Essays The Second Edition.pdf/37

[  23    ] SONNET, FROM PETRARCH. e vales and woods, fair scenes of happier hours,
 * Ye feather'd people, tenants of the grove,

And you, bright stream, besring'd with shrubs and flowers,
 * Ah! see my grief, ye witnesses of love!

For ye beheld my infant passion rise,
 * And saw thro' years unchang'd my faithful flame;

Now cold in dust the beauteous object lies,
 * And you, ye conscious scenes, are still the same.

While busy memory still delights to dwell
 * On all the charms these bitter tears deplore,

And with a trembling hand describes too well
 * The angel form I shall behold no more!

To heaven she's fled, and nought to me remains But the pale ashes which her urn contains. SONNET,