Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | III. On Seeing a Youth Affectionately Welcomed by a Sister | By Samuel Taylor Coleridge (17721834) |
| I TOO a sister had! too cruel Death! | |
How sad remembrance bids my bosom heave! | |
Tranquil her soul as sleeping infants breath; | |
Meek were her manners as a vernal eve. | |
Knowledge, that frequent lifts the bloated mind, | 5 |
Gave her the treasure of a lowly breast; | |
And Wit, to venomed Malice oft assigned, | |
Dwelt in her bosom in a turtles nest. | |
Cease, busy Memory! cease to urge the dart, | |
Nor on my soul her love to me impress! | 10 |
For oh! I mourn in anguish; and my heart | |
Feels the keen pang, th unutterable distress. | |
Yet wherefore grieve I that her sorrows cease, | |
For life was misery, and the grave is peace. | | | |
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