Sonnet
.
FOR
me
would
Fancy
now
her
chaplet
twine
Of
Hope's
bright
blossoms
,
and
Joy's
fairy
flowers
,
As
she
was
wont
to
do
in
gayer
hours
;
Ill
would
it
suit
this
brow
,
where
many
a
line
Declares
the
spring-time
of
my
life
gone
by
,
And
summer
far
advanced
;
what
now
remain
Of
waning
years
,
should
own
staid
Wisdom's
reign
.
Shall
my
distempered
heart
still
idly
sigh
For
those
gay
phantoms
,
chased
by
sober
truth
?
Those
forms
tumultuous
which
sick
visions
bring
,
That
lightly
flitting
on
the
transient
wing
Disturbed
the
fevered
slumbers
of
my
youth
?
Ah
,
no
!
my
suffering
soul
at
length
restored
,
Shall
taste
the
calm
repose
so
oft
in
vain
implored
.