SONNETS.

SONNETS.

I.

THROUGH suffering and sorrow thou hast passed
To show us what a woman true may be:
They have not taken sympathy from thee,
Nor made thee any other than thou wast ;

Save as some tree, which, in a sudden blast,
Sheddeth those blossoms, that are weakly grown,
Upon the air, but keepeth every one

Whose strength gives warrant of good fruit at last :
So thou hast shed some blooms of gayety,
But never one of steadfast cheerfulness ;
Nor hath thy knowledge of adversity
Robbed thee of any faith in happiness,
But rather cleared thine inner eyes to see
How many simple ways there are to bless.

II.

WHAT were I, Love, if I were stripped of thee,
If thine eyes shut me out, whereby I live,
Thou, who unto my calmed soul dost give
Knowledge, and Truth, and holy Mystery,
Wherein Truth mainly lies for those who see
Beyond the earthly and the fugitive,

Who in the grandeur of the soul believe,
And only in the Infinite are free?

Without thee I were naked, bleak, and bare

As

yon dead cedar on the sea-cliff's brow;

And Nature's teachings, which come to me now

Common and beautiful as light and air,

Would be as fruitless as a stream which still

Slips through the wheel of some old ruined mill.