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A SHEAF GLEANED

Sonnet.ISOLATION.


LE COMTE F. DE GRAMONT.


Fall, fall, O snow, from thy thick heavy cloud
In silent showers; encumber vales, and plains,
And heights, with thy white plumes, till nought remains,
Nor herb, nor tree, without its silver shroud.
Safe in that shelter from the north-winds loud,
When Spring, returning, their rude breath restrains,
More prompt the earth shall smile, in genial rains,
And leaves start forth in all their splendour proud.
Blest isolation from the world, I see
Herein thy emblem; may thy winding-sheet
Guard my soul likewise till its latest hour,
That so through all its journey it may be
Patient, until God's love with generous heat
In heaven unfolds the blossom into flower.