When I sit musing on the chequer'd past
(A term much darken'd with untimely woes),
My thoughts revert to her, for whom still flows
The tear, though half disown'd; and binding fast
Pride's stubborn cheat to my too yielding heart,
I say to her she robb'd me of my rest,
When that was all my wealth. 'Tis true my breast
Received from her this wearying, lingering smart;
Yet, ah! I cannot bid her form depart;
Though wrong'd, I love her-yet in anger love,
For she was most unworthy.-Then I prove
Vindictive joy; and on my stern front gleams,
Throned in dark clouds, inflexible….
The native pride of my much injured heart.
Sonnet (when I Sit Musing On The Chequer'd Past)
Henry Kirk White
(1)
Poem topics: anger, dark, joy, smart, wealth, fast, tear, wrong, true, prove, native, depart, heart, pride, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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