Sonnet Xii Poem by Robert Anderson

TO A YOUNG LADY LABOURING UNDER A SEVERE ILLNESS.

Emblem of Innocence, the Snowdrop meek,
Around in early spring its fragrance pours;
The firstling fair bends from the wild winds bleak,
Recov'ring with the genial noon--tide hours.
So, child of Virtue! didst thou pour thy song,
By Nature taught, in Solitude's lone grove,
Breathing sweet lays of innocence and love,
Thy ``wild notes'' charming oft the list'ning throng,
Till pale Disease, to whom e'en kings must bend,
Stole from thy cheek Health's fairest blushing rose:
Yet grieve not, since that Pow'r who marks thy woes
His sorrow--soothing balm to thee may lend,
Bidding those virtues yet a while to bloom,
That, by Religion led, can triumph o'er the tomb.