A Sonnet
He envies not the splendours of a King
A misers wealth, a Sybarites soft ease
Who feels upon his cheek the southern breeze
Fragrant with all the scents of early spring
Who listens to the song the thrushes sing
The busy of the insects and the drone of bees
The myriad sounds that of flowers and trees
Of silver morn and golden evening
But if I could count it again complete
If I was for one brief hour with you alone
Could barter all of natures charms
I could summon you my sweet my sweet
Across barriers of the great unknown
And hold thee once again within my arms
A misers wealth, a Sybarites soft ease
Who feels upon his cheek the southern breeze
Fragrant with all the scents of early spring
Who listens to the song the thrushes sing
The busy of the insects and the drone of bees
The myriad sounds that of flowers and trees
Of silver morn and golden evening
But if I could count it again complete
If I was for one brief hour with you alone
Could barter all of natures charms
I could summon you my sweet my sweet
Across barriers of the great unknown
And hold thee once again within my arms
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