SONNET.
Reading edition
My wandering feet have trod those paths to-day,
Where I so late with thee in joyance went,
And gladly thitherward my steps I bent,
Turning me from the dust and din away,
And tracing with a quiet joy each spot
Hallowed by some remembrance dear to me,
A smile, a tone that cannot be forgot—
Places whose every charm was won from thee;
And therefore do I love that grassy way,
And every spot which thou hast wandered o’er,
And as a miser counts his secret store
When darkness has obscured the light of day,
So in thy absence, which is my heart’s night,
Thy treasured words and smiles tell I with deep delight.