Sonnets. III. “I thought our love at full, but I did err”

James Russell Lowell (1819–1891)

I THOUGHT our love at full, but I did err;

Joy’s wreath drooped o’er mine eyes; I could not see

That sorrow in our happy world must be

Love’s deepest spokesman and interpreter.

But, as a mother feels her child first stir

Under her heart, so felt I instantly

Deep in my soul another bond to thee

Thrill with that life we saw depart from her;

O mother of our angel child! twice dear!

Death knits as well as parts, and still, I wis,

Her tender radiance shall infold us here,

Even as the light, borne up by inward bliss,

Threads the void glooms of space without a fear,

To print on farthest stars her pitying kiss.