| Higginson and Bigelow, comps. American Sonnets. 1891. | | | | “I scarcely grieve, O Nature! at the lot” | | By Henry Timrod (1828–1867) |
| | | I SCARCELY grieve, O Nature! at the lot | |
| That pent my life within a city’s bounds, | |
| And shut me from thy sweetest sights and sounds. | |
| Perhaps I had not learned, if some lone cot | |
| Had nursed a dreamy childhood, what the mart | 5 |
| Taught me amid its turmoil; so my youth | |
| Had missed full many a stern but wholesome truth. | |
| Here, too, O Nature! in this haunt of Art, | |
| Thy power is on me, and I own thy thrall. | |
| There is no unimpressive spot on earth! | 10 |
| The beauty of the stars is over all, | |
| And Day and Darkness visit every hearth. | |
| Clouds do not scorn us: yonder factory’s smoke | |
| Looked like a golden mist when morning broke. | | | | |
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