63
SONNET.
Amidst the darkness of the ancient time,
Did dreams of beauty linger—thought and grace
Beamed forth serenely on the sculptured face;
Heroic deeds, the achievements of each clime,
Had their memorial, deathless and sublime,
In the pure marble—now the virtuous few
Reap not their fame—the noble deeds they do
Are all unknown—they perish in their prime.
Yet do they leave to this benighted earth
A prouder gift than Grecian art bestowed,
The burning thoughts that raise the soul to God,
The hopes that teach it of its heavenly birth,
And those immortal energies of mind
Which sanctify, and save, and bless mankind.
Did dreams of beauty linger—thought and grace
Beamed forth serenely on the sculptured face;
Heroic deeds, the achievements of each clime,
Had their memorial, deathless and sublime,
In the pure marble—now the virtuous few
Reap not their fame—the noble deeds they do
Are all unknown—they perish in their prime.
Yet do they leave to this benighted earth
A prouder gift than Grecian art bestowed,
The burning thoughts that raise the soul to God,
The hopes that teach it of its heavenly birth,
And those immortal energies of mind
Which sanctify, and save, and bless mankind.
