Higginson and Bigelow, comps. American Sonnets. 1891. | | Love | By Jones Very (18131880) |
| I ASKED of Time to tell me where was Love; | |
He pointed to her footsteps on the snow, | |
Where first the angel lighted from above, | |
And bid me note the way and onward go; | |
Through populous streets of cities spreading wide, | 5 |
By lonely cottage rising on the moor, | |
Where bursts from sundered cliff the struggling tide, | |
To where it hails the sea with answering roar, | |
She led me on; oer mountains frozen head, | |
Where mile on mile still stretches on the plain, | 10 |
Then homeward whither first my feet she led | |
I traced her path along the snow again; | |
But there the sun had melted from the earth | |
The prints where first she trod, a child of mortal birth. | | | |
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