Poems (Nealds)/Sonnet (How sweet to walk at morning hour)
For works with similar titles, see Sonnet.
SONNET.
How sweet to walk at morning hour,
On grassy hill, or woodland glade,
Or when bright Phœbus shews his pow'r,
To seek the grove's embow'ring shade!
But sweeter 'tis by Cynthia's ray,
To wander on the sea-beat shore,
When all the noisy hum of day
Is hush'd, and winds forget to roar.
Then does the meditative mind
Look up with faith's awaken'd eye,
And, all her earth-born thoughts resign'd,
Holds converse with the Deity;
And the rapt spirit longs at once to soar,
Where pain and grief can never wound it more.
On grassy hill, or woodland glade,
Or when bright Phœbus shews his pow'r,
To seek the grove's embow'ring shade!
But sweeter 'tis by Cynthia's ray,
To wander on the sea-beat shore,
When all the noisy hum of day
Is hush'd, and winds forget to roar.
Then does the meditative mind
Look up with faith's awaken'd eye,
And, all her earth-born thoughts resign'd,
Holds converse with the Deity;
And the rapt spirit longs at once to soar,
Where pain and grief can never wound it more.