Sonnet

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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.

© Mary Darby Robinson