Sonnet

In early youth, blithe Spring's exulting day,

Each hour put forth new raptures to my view;

Each sunny morn on downy pinions flew,

And swift the jocund minutes danc'd away!

Ere Summer's breath matur'd my ripening mind,

I found the blissful scene begin to fade;

Cold sorrow hover'd round with wings unkind,

And o'er my bosom spread a dreary shade;

An early Winter chills my glowing breast,

Frost-nipp'd too soon my fondest hopes decay;

My cheek no more with rosy graces bless'd,

Smiles with the freshness of returning May;

So freezing gales in sunny splendours drest,

Fade the young blossoms of the infant spray.