This page has been validated.
218
RALPH RENAUDE.
SONNET.
Slow fades the sunlight from each lonely hill,
And the pale half-moon paints with shadowy hue
The sleeping earth; how soon doth night renew
Watch o'er a world—so passionless, so still!
So free from all the turbulent thoughts that fill
And thrill the human soul, deep hid from view!
Oh! would that we poor, tired mortals, too,
Might seek and find repose. Ah! not until
We learn, through life, to know and understand
The million chords—struck by some unseen hand
On the responsive, yearning soul of man—
Strange and conflicting since the world began;
Then all of beauty, truth, and love will find
Abiding echo in our heart and mind.
Ralph Renaude.
