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Sonnet. To an Enthusiast.

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young ardent soul, graced with fair nature’s truth,

spring warmth of heart, and fervency of mind,

and still a large late love of all thy kind.

spite of the world’s cold practice and time’s tooth —

for all these gifts, i know not, in fair sooth,

whether to give thee joy, or bid thee blind

thine eyes with tears — that thou hast not resign’d

the passionate fire and freshness of thy youth:

for as the current of thy life shall flow,

gilded by shine of sun or shadow-stain’d,

through flow’ry valley or unwholesome fen,

thrice blessed in thy joy, or in thy woe

thrice cursed of thy race — thou art ordain’d

to share beyond the lot of common men.

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