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sonnet, etc.
Sonnet.
A SABBATH MORN IN MAY.
The sun shines gloriously from skies of blue;
The warm west wind blows freshly from the sea,
Shaking the fragile blossom on the tree;
The flowers, fresh from their morning bath of dew,
Lift smiling faces, as we saunter through
The lanes redolent with their sweet perfume;
The hedges are all white with hawthorn bloom;
The birds sing sweetly, and our hearts sing too.
·········
For life, in spite of care, is well worth living,
Since God doth Nature's wants and ours renew;
And so we join her song of glad thanksgiving
To Him whose promises are ever true,
And bless His holy name this Sabbath morn
For all the beauties of the earth new-born.
The warm west wind blows freshly from the sea,
Shaking the fragile blossom on the tree;
The flowers, fresh from their morning bath of dew,
Lift smiling faces, as we saunter through
The lanes redolent with their sweet perfume;
The hedges are all white with hawthorn bloom;
The birds sing sweetly, and our hearts sing too.
·········
For life, in spite of care, is well worth living,
Since God doth Nature's wants and ours renew;
And so we join her song of glad thanksgiving
To Him whose promises are ever true,
And bless His holy name this Sabbath morn
For all the beauties of the earth new-born.
To Marie Corelli.
Thine hand has opened wide to me
The portals of the great "Beyond,"
And drawn my very heart to thee
By sympathy's sweet bond.
Surely, we twain have met before,
Or will meet when this life is o'er.
The portals of the great "Beyond,"
And drawn my very heart to thee
By sympathy's sweet bond.
Surely, we twain have met before,
Or will meet when this life is o'er.
