FROM ‘THE HOUSE OF LIFE’ INTRODUCTORY SONNET

We use cookies. Read the Privacy and Cookie Policy

FROM ‘THE HOUSE OF LIFE’

INTRODUCTORY SONNET

A Sonnet is a moment’s monument, —

     Memorial from the Soul’s eternity

     To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be,

Whether for lustral rite or dire portent,

Of its own arduous fulness reverent:

     Carve it in ivory or in ebony,

     As Day or Night may rule; and let Time see

Its flowering crest impearled and orient.

A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals

     The soul, — its converse, to what Power ’tis due: —

Whether for tribute to the august appeals

     Of Life, or dower in Love’s high retinue,

It serve; or, ’mid the dark wharf’s cavernous breath,

in Charon’s palm it pay the toll to Death.