SONNET.—TO MARY M. R. W.
Reading edition
Both when the morning and the evening dews
Moisten the earth, I pray thee, lady, seek
Some lofty hill, whence many a swelling peak
May be descried far in the distance. Views
Like these shall tune thy spirit, and infuse
Thoughts worthy of immortal life: thy cheek
Shall glow with rosier healthfulness; thy meek
And dove-like eyes shall drink in tints and hues
Like those of heaven; and when the magic play
Of colors, shifting o’er the mountain-side,
Has mingled with thy fancy; when the ray
Of rising or of setting sun has dyed
Thy inmost soul with splendor—come away—
For then thou shalt be almost deified.
T. E. V. B.