George Darley (Джордж Дарли)

Sonnet to the Same

I thought that I could ever happy be,
Married to meditation, and my lyre.
Charming the moments on with melody.
That fills the ear with musical desire;
But now far other thoughts my breast inspire;
I find no happiness in poesy;
Within my soul burns a diviner fire,
For now my heart is full of love and Thee:
Yet 'tis a melancholy thing to love
When Fate or Expectation shuts the door,
When all the mercy I can hope, above
Mere friendship, is thy pity,—and no more,
For who could love a being such as me,
Thy most unhappy son, Fatality?

1. Lenimina Laborum. 28. To My Dead Mistress
2. The Gambols of Children
3. Lenimina Laborum. 27. The Free-Booter
4. Lenimina Laborum. 35. Departing Music
5. Lenimina Laborum. 57. The Temptress of the Cave

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1731

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