ABSTRACT

SONNET II1 First blessing, frail Mortality can know! Philanthropy divine! all-healing Pow’r, Wand’ring untired, to seek the haunts of Woe, Where ruthless Sorrow lingers to devour! Thou scorn’st the mummery of empty show, 5 Mankind thy kindred! while, from Pole to Pole, They seek the same inevitable goal, Stung by distinctions, that from custom grow. Thou know’st all light is less than mental day; The Ethiop’s dusky brow, Circassia’s rose, 10 Are but the varying tints of breathing clay! Life’s gilded pageant, dazzling as it goes, Stops at the sepulchre, and fades away, To let the Beggar and the Prince repose! PORTIA