Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
I. HappinessRichard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton (18091885)
A
Woven into a tapestry of cloud,
A merry child a-playing with the shroud
That lies upon a breathless mother’s bed,
A garland on the front of one new-wed,
Trembling and weeping while her troth is vowed,
A school-boy’s laugh that rises light and loud
In licensed freedom from ungentle dread;—
These are ensamples of the Happiness
For which our nature fits us. More and less
Are parts of all things to the mortal given,
Of Love, Joy, Truth, and Beauty. Perfect light
Would dazzle, not illuminate, our sight;
From Earth it is enough to glimpse at Heaven.