Sonnet to Evening

SWEET BALMY HOUR! ­dear to the pensive mind,

Oft have I watch'd thy dark and weeping shade,

Oft have I hail'd thee in the dewy glade,

And drop'd a tear of SYMPATHY refin'd.

When humming bees, hid in their golden bow'rs,

Sip the pure nectar of MAY'S blushing rose,

Or faint with noon-day toils, their limbs repose,

In Baths of Essence stol'n from sunny flow'rs.

Oft do I seek thy shade dear with'ring tree,

Sad emblem of my OWN disast'rous state;

Doom'd in the spring of life, alas ! like THEE

To fade, and droop beneath the frowns of FATE;

Like THEE, may Heaven to ME the meed bestow,

To shelter Sorrow's tear, and sooth THE CHILD OF WOE.