Sonnet – Come, Reason

Come, Reason, come! each nerve rebellious bind,

Lull the fierce tempest of my fev'rish soul;

Come, with the magic of thy meek controul,

And check the wayward wand'rings of my mind:

Estrang'd from thee, no solace can I find,

O'er my rapt brain, where pensive visions stole,

Now passion reigns and stormy tumults roll--

So the smooth Sea obeys the furious wind!

In vain Philosophy unfolds his store,

O'erwhelm'd is ev'ry source of pure delight;

Dim is the golden page of wisdom's lore;

All nature fades before my sick'ning sight:

For what bright scene can fancy's eye explore,

'Midst dreary labyrinths of mental night?