Sonnetxlvii. To G.W.C.

STILL shines our August day, as calm, as bright As when, long years ago, we sailied away Down the blue Narrows and the widening bay Into the wrinkling ocean's flashing light; And the whole universe of sound and sight Repeats the radiance of that festal day. But for the inward eye no power can stay The fleeting splendor of our youth's delight. Still shines our August day, — but not for me The old enchantment, — when, by care and sorrow Untried, the hopeful heart was ever free To greet the morn as herald of like morrow. Yet shine, fair day! And let my soul from thee Hope, faith, and strength for life's dim future borrow.