Poems (Nealds)/Sonnet (Oh lovely Spring! too late, alas! thou'rt come)
For works with similar titles, see Sonnet.
SONNET.
Oh lovely Spring! too late, alas! thou'rt come,
To save that gentle being from the tomb;
Too late thy soft refreshing breezes blow,
For she who woo'd them in the grave lies low.
Too late, alas! thou com'st with balmy breath
To save her from the cruel hand of death.
Oh! how she long'd to see thy op'ning flow'rs,
And linger'd for thy health-restoring hours.
But, ah! for her, alas! thou com'st in vain;
For her thy flow'rs will never bloom again.
Oh! she was good, considerate, and kind,
To me and mine—ah! where now shall I find
One who, like her, would share my joy or pain?
Alas! to me she'll ne'er return again.
To save that gentle being from the tomb;
Too late thy soft refreshing breezes blow,
For she who woo'd them in the grave lies low.
Too late, alas! thou com'st with balmy breath
To save her from the cruel hand of death.
Oh! how she long'd to see thy op'ning flow'rs,
And linger'd for thy health-restoring hours.
But, ah! for her, alas! thou com'st in vain;
For her thy flow'rs will never bloom again.
Oh! she was good, considerate, and kind,
To me and mine—ah! where now shall I find
One who, like her, would share my joy or pain?
Alas! to me she'll ne'er return again.