SONNETS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XV, Issue II, 13 July 1895, Page 35

SONNETS.

The luck of Tantalus has mocked my thirst When, parched and fevered, I have yearned to drink The vessel from my hand has seemed to shrink ’ Or the elixir lias, in mist, dispersed The hope that in my fervid youth I nursed, Outlived its fruiting-time : but, on the brink Of fateful change, 1 still can hope and think Life’s recent years, perchance, may prove its worst. Still to feel thirst and yearning for relief May be my fate ; yet, not of hope forlorn • Though hope be mantled with the shade of grief, I may, each eve, expect a richer morn ; Like a tired gleaner, who his scanty sheaf Binds near the unreaped ranks of golden corn. 11. This lot do I desire : ere I depart And leave to earth this perishable frame. And be to friends a memory and a name ; To the last hour, when Death shall launch his dart Be mine all treasures of the human heart That I can give or I from others claim, In all the depth and strength that highest aim Has symbolised and sealed in realms of Art. Vainly will ills cast shade and tempests beat On him that daily breathes ambrosial air, And walks his tangled path with winged feet: And though the love-charmd heart hasmany acare Unknown to baser kinds, life will be sweet. By love kept pure and fenced by constant prayer. H. L. Twislhton.