SONNET. 



When the woodlands are covered with leaves and 



flowers, 

 In the loveliest time of the year ; 

 When the sky is now clear, and now checkered with 



showers, 

 And life rambles on through the warm sunny hours, 

 Undimmed with a shade or a tear ; 

 O, sweet are the feelings that kindle and burn 

 As we gaze on the flowers and the sky ; 

 But to higher and purer devotion they turn. 

 As water takes tint from the hue of its urn, 

 When they burn in the light of thine eye. ' 



And when, in the calm of a moonshiny night, 



A serenade steals o'er the bay. 



As it curls in the smile of her mellowest light, 



Or lies in its beauty, as silent and bright 



As it slept in the sunshine of day, — 



O, sweet is the clear and silvery tone. 



