| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | XVI. The Worst Pangs of Sorrow | | By William Wordsworth (1770–1850) |
| | | SURPRISED by joy, impatient as the wind | |
| I turned to share the transport—oh! with whom | |
| But Thee, deep buried in the silent tomb, | |
| That spot which no vicissitude can find? | |
| Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind,— | 5 |
| But how could I forget thee? Through what power, | |
| Even for the least division of an hour, | |
| Have I been so beguiled as to be blind | |
| To my most grievous loss? That thought’s return | |
| Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore, | 10 |
| Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn, | |
| Knowing my heart’s best treasure was no more; | |
| That neither present time nor years unborn | |
| Could to my sight that heavenly face restore. | | | | |
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