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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


SONNET: 2, 35 by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN

First Line: NOR ALL OF SOLEMN IS MY THOUGHT OF HER
Last Line: KISS FROM MY BROW THE HEAVY THOUGHTS AWAY.

Nor all of solemn is my thought of her.
Though changed and glorified, must there not be
Place still for mirth and innocent gayety
And pure young hearts? Or do we gravely err,
And is their happiness too deep for joy?
It cannot be. The natural heart's employ
Pours praise as pure as any worshipper
Lost in his rite, too raptured to be gay.
Yes, and such service in its flight outstrips
The cries of suffering hearts that wail and bleed,
The groans of grief, crushed from some bitter need.
This is the faith I bear; and look indeed
To hear her laugh again and feel her lips
Kiss from my brow the heavy thoughts away.



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