Volume 3 — SONNET LXXX.

As lightens the brown hill to vivid green When juvenescent April’s showery sun Looks on its side, with golden glance, at noon; So on the gloom of life’s now faded scene Shines the dear image of those days serene, From Memory’s consecrated treasures won; The days that rose, ere youth, and years were flown, Soft as the morn of May;—and well I ween If they had clouds, in Time’s alembic clear They vanish’d all, and their gay vision glows In brightness unobscur’d; and now they wear A more than pristine sunniness, which throws Those mild reflected lights that soften care, Loss of lov’d friends, and all the train of woes.