Commands me thus to leave thee, and repine
And I must vainly mourn the scenes I fly,
And breathe on other gales my plaintive sigh,
And blend my tears with other waves than thine!
SONNET 23.
TO A LADY WHO DIED AT SEA.
“Chara minha inimiga, em cuja mao.”
Thou to whose power my hopes, my joys I gave,
O fondly loved! my bosom’s dearest care!
Earth, which denied to lend thy form a grave,