Sonnets Which I Have Composed

In an antique Style, but written in the Year 2026.

THE ROSY TRACK

Pleaſe let me walk upon the roſy Track
Whereon each Tile I tread reſembles Dream
And every ancient Whim from Days far back
Is manifeſt that ere ſeemed idle Scheme
For that I think of when the Weather’s grim
And Raindrops ſtir Remembrance long lain quelled
Or elſe when Winter-evenings’ Lights grow dim
And I undozing lie with Reſt withheld
A certain Face ſo vague-recalled at Times
At others ſeen with flawleſs mental Sight
Inſpires a Luſt in me in dreary Climes
Which I to meet again am wanting Might
So new Encounters ſought ſhall come in Sleep
And Mind of her in waking ſhall I keep

THE GREEN-HEMMED STRAND

When I alit upon the green-hemmed Strand
And rowed aſhore in nearly-leaking Boat
I found myſelf no longer loathing Land
Though I was left in Parts the moſt remote
By treading firſt for Days on ſteadfaſt Ground
My Sea-wont Legs were much diſpoſed to fold
But ere I fell my Gait was rendered ſound
Advancing up the Beach in Ebb moſt ſhoaled
I wandered toward the Palms and fallen Dates
And Bloſſoms Summer-blown and rank-grown Graſs
Deſiring Fruit while ill-fed Maw awaits
And yearning ſoon to Iſland-meadow paſs
Today I live in Comfort on the Beach
As Earth’s far bigger Countries do impeach

WANE OF VIRTUE

When many thouſand Men have ſtriven hard
To rob the Folk of all its godly Parts
It’s falſe to think the Culture be unmarred
And Ruin Wane of Virtue ſeldom ſtarts
They wage a ſilent Conqueſt thus and win
While never rearing Weapon on their Foe
For now the Land’s unſoundly ſtabliſhed Sin
And ſunken binding Morals deathly low
Unleſs reſiſting foreign Forces’ Ills
Forgoing all the Vices which they bring
It’s deſtined they ſhall rot through evil Wills
Whoſe Doer, they, ſhall feel the mortal Wring
It’s ſafe to ward a People from this End
But once the Pure have faltered ſhall they mend?

DESIRE FOR UNCOUTH KINDS

Deſire that yearns for uncouth Kinds has ſwelled
A Luſt for that unnormal much-ſhunned Strain
Whoſe Madneſs it were better had repelled
Myſelf, one likewiſe warped in the Brain
Wherefore am I ſo ſtrangely fixed on theſe
Which ſcarcely warrant from their antic Ways
The Love from me that iſſues with odd Eaſe?
Yet Sanity’s no Match for Mind’s Malaiſe
As long as I behold that errant Kind
That always works in me a longing Mood
To Rogues my Heart ſhall always be inclined
Though this I yield is ſeldom earthly ſhrewd
But Hope’s yet firm I’ll meet One wiſe and right
Who Love and Virtue amply ſhall requite

THE SUMMER-HEAT

The Summer-heat does drain the Fleſh’s Might
And overbears a Waft of tiring Drought
And bathes the Landſcape bleak in Noontide White
And bides on Earth a Seaſon’s ling’ring Bout
When Sun retire, returns to Southern Ring
The weary Green does likewiſe reſt in Red
And from the Bough that bore it ſtops to cling
While blooded Wights at laſt are ſtirred from Bed
The Vigor iſſues from the waxing Dim
Which Days ’yond Summer ſtart to undertake
The ſame how Chill unſlackens Man’s weak Limb
And does our Heat-bound Bonds aſunder break
Juſt mind how Winter wakes thee in its Cold
Before near Spring that Yeartime’s Days grow old