Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SONNET: 2, 4, by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN

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SONNET: 2, 4, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: But grief finds solace faint in others' ills
Last Line: Apt to the touch of fire, hephaestian hills?

But grief finds solace faint in others' ills
And but in her own shadow loves to go:
For her the mountain slide may crash and flow;
Alike to that dull eye the wild brook fills
With mist the chasm, or feeds the fields below;
Alike the latter rain with sure return
Breaks in the barren pine or thick distils
On the pond lily and the green brookflags
Or rises softly up to flood the fern.
What though the world were water drowned? or though
The sun, from his high place descending slow,
Should over the autumn landscapes brood and burn
Till all the vales were tinder, and their crags,
Apt to the touch of fire, Hephaestian hills?

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