Sonnet XLIX
Elegiac Sonnets, and Other Poems, Volume 1, The Ninth Edition
O THOU! who sleep'st where hazle-bands entwineThe vernal grass, with paler violets drest;I would, sweet maid! thy humble bed were mine,And mine thy calm and enviable rest.For never more by human ills opprestShall thy soft spirit fruitlessly repine:Thou canst not now thy fondest hopes resignEven in the hour that should have made thee blest.Light lies the turf upon thy virgin breast;And lingering here, to Love and Sorrow true,The youth who once thy simple heart possestShall mingle tears with April's early dew;While still for him shall faithful Memory saveThy form and virtues from the silent grave.