The Poetry Corner

Sonnet: - XIV.

By Charles Sangster

There is no sadness here. Oh, that my heart Were calm and peaceful as these dreamy groves! That all my hopes and passions, and deep loves, Could sit in such an atmosphere of peace, Where no unholy impulses would start Responsive to the throes that never cease To keep my spirit in such wild unrest. 'Tis only in the struggling human breast That the true sorrow lives. Our fruitful joys Have stony kernels hidden in their core. Life in a myriad phases passeth here, And death as various - an equal poise; Yet all is but a solemn change - no more; And not a sound save joy pervades the atmosphere.