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John Hamilton Reynolds - Sonnet. Sweet Poets Of The Gentle Antique Line
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Sweet poets of the gentle antique line,
That made the hue of beauty all eterne;
And gave earth`s melodies a silver turn,--
Where did you steal your art so right divine?--
Sweetly ye memoried every golden twine
Of your ladies` tresses: -- teach me how to spurn
Death`s lone decaying and oblivion stern
From the sweet forehead of a lady mine.

The golden clusters of enamouring hair
Glow`d in poetic pictures sweetly well;--
Why should not tresses dusk, that are so fair
On the live brow, have an eternal spell
In poesy? -- dark eyes are dearer far
Than orbs that mock the hyacinthine-bell.
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