Sonnet to ---- .
By W. M. MacKeracher
Journeying through a desert, waste and drear,
Exhausted and disheartened by his way,
So hard and parched, unchanged from day to day,
Saw the lone traveller an oasis near,
In which a tender flower did appear,
Endued with beauty and with fragrance sweet,
Known not to scorching winds nor blighting heat;
And gazing on it, it imparted cheer.
The traveller trod the weary sands of Time,
Entering thy home delightful peace he found;
Radiant with youthful beauty half divine,
On him thine angel face with sunbeams crowned
Smiled, and that artless, beaming smile of thine
Sped to his soul that with new life did bound.