124 
SONNET. 
(l.AVATERA ARBOREA.) 
^Veary with uncongenial employ 
I sat in my lone room all spiritless. 
The very type of gloomy idleness; 
IMy most-loved hooks I could not then enjoy, 
But, like a tired child, craved some newer toy 
To call back pleasure out of weariness. 
IVIy cheek leaned on my hand, and a stray tress 
Of hair writhed in my idle fingers. To destroy. 
At one blest moment, my most gloomy mood, 
A small hand oped the door — a loved friend stood 
Smiling beside me, and these fair dowsers placed 
On my neglected palette: swift away 
h'lew my dark vapours, while aroused and gay. 
Pencil in hand, the portrait-group I traced. 
