Sonnet

Youth speeds its spring tide like a princely flower
& beauty is the jewel of its hour
That blooms exulting in its triumph there
This work is mine & where is ought so fair
Nature looks on & doth in raptures move
Feeling the earnest of delight is love
Its pains & happiness are sighs & smiles
& life in bud with opening hope beguiles
While scarce a pulse beats neath the fickle reign
Of present happiness & future pain
For what hath beautys self to boast & wear
A lily skin a cheek of rose dark hair
Bright eyes & ruby lips — times poor display
When every hour can steal a charm away
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