J. M. C-D.

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THREE SONNETS TO JOHN KEATS.

(_For the Mirror_.)

I can think of thee! now that the light spring
Showers live in the rich breezes, and the dyes
Of the glad flowers are won from her blue eyes
Exulting; whilst loud songs, on the fleet wing
Of the Earth's seraphs, bear her welcoming
From it to heaven, and, up to the far skies,
From turf-born censers floods of incense rise.
I can think of thee in my wandering;
And when the heart leaps up within to bless
The sights of love and beauty, on each hand,--
The pouring-out of sky-sprung happiness
Over the dancing sea and the green land,
Thought wakes one saddening thrill of bitterness--
Thou canst not o'er this Eden smiling stand!


Yes! even as the quick glow of Spring's first smile
Is unto the renewed spirit,--even
As that abundant gush of wine from Heaven
Loosens the dreary grasp of Cares which coil
Round the lone heart like serpents,--the sweet toil