Sonnet LIII

THE shivering native, who by Tenglio's sideBeholds with fond regret the parting lightSink far away, beneath the darkening tide,And leave him to long months of dreary night,Yet knows, that springing from the eastern waveThe sun's glad beams shall re-illume his way,And from the snows secured—within his caveHe waits in patient hope—returning day.Not so the sufferer feels, who, o'er the wasteOf joyless life, is destin'd to deploreFond love forgotten, tender friendship past,Which, once extinguish'd, can revive no more!O'er the blank void he looks with hopeless pain;For him those beams of heaven shall never shine again.