SONNETS

Through suffering and sorrow thou hast passed

To show us what a woman true may be:

They have not taken sympathy from thee,

Nor made thee any other than thou wast,

Save as some tree, which, in a sudden blast,

Sheddeth those blossoms, that are weakly grown,

Upon the air, but keepeth every one

Whose strength gives warrant of good fruit at last:

So thou hast shed some blooms of gayety,

But never one of steadfast cheerfulness;

Nor hath thy knowledge of adversity

Robbed thee of any faith in happiness,

But rather cleared thine inner eyes to see

How many simple ways there are to bless.