Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONNET: 4, by ROBERT SOUTHEY



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SONNET: 4, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: What though no sculptured monument proclaim
Last Line: Sad sounding as the cold breeze rustles by.
Subject(s): Death; Fate; Graves; Grief; Longing; Love - Loss Of; Sonnet (As Literary Form); Dead, The; Destiny; Tombs; Tombstones; Sorrow; Sadness


WHAT though no sculptured monument proclaim
Thy fate—yet, Albert, in my breast I bear
Inshrined the sad remembrance: yet thy name
Will fill my throbbing bosom. When despair,
The child of murdered hope, fed on thy heart,
Loved, honoured friend, I saw thee sink forlorn,
Pierced to the soul by cold neglect's keen dart,
And penury's hard ills, and pitying scorn,
And the dark spectre of departed joy,
Inhuman memory. Often on thy grave
Love I the solitary hour to employ
Thinking on other days; and heave the sigh
Responsive, when I mark the high grass wave
Sad sounding as the cold breeze rustles by.





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