Sonnet Iii.

AH, happy time! when music bound in one Two kindred souls that ne'er were out of tune: When in the porch, beneath the summer moon, Our supper o'er, our school-boy lessons done, While other lads were at some boisterous fun, We trilled our Tara's Hall or Bonnie Doon: Or in some fire-lit wintry afternoon, Our flutes, you first, I second, bravely won Their winding path through many a tough duet; Nor cared for plaudits louder than the praise Mother or sisters, in those simple days, Well pleased, bestowed: ah, sweeter than we met In after-life, from critics pledged to raise Art's standard high as dome or minaret.