Sonnet. (Why Do I Muse...) Poem by Susan Evance

WHY do I muse on moments that are past
Like the fond visions of an airy dream,
With weeping tenderness, and thought o'ercast
With shades of deep regret? Alas! they seem

The smiling scenes where sunbeams of delight
Unclouded love to linger; strew'd with flowers,
Whose perfum'd buds appear more softly bright,
Than rainbow glittering on summer showers.

Ah! does not memory like Hope deceive?
Like Hope resign her realms to Fancy's sway,
Who fondly loves a magic veil to weave
For every past as well as future day?

Ah, surely yes! for Sorrow's tearful show'r
Falls on the beam that gilds our fairest hour.