Henry Alford

Sonnet. "Lady, I may not but indite to thee"

Lady, I may not but indite to thee One grateful tribute of my verse, to tell How sweetly fared my spirit and how well In the pure air of thy society, How cheered and how refreshed she back returned Into this world's thick weary atmosphere; And how she hath trimmed up and pointed clear Her lamps of Faith and Hope that dimly burned. Because thy talk hath been of Christ, and things Hid in the bosom of eternal Love: Because thy soul hath fixed her rest above, And thither straining with unflagging wings Pierceth in vision far beyond the ken Of the proud multitude of reasoning men.