Bishop Heber.
SONNET.
Beauty still walketh on the earth and air,
Our present sunsets are as rich in gold
As ere Iliad’s music was outrolled;
The roses of the spring are ever fair,
'Mong branches green still ring-doves coo and pair,
And the deep sea still foams its music old.
So, if we are at all divinely souled,
This beauty will unloose our bonds of care.