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1776–1852

SONNET.

Matilda Betham

Urge me no more! nor think, because I seem Tame and unsorrowing in the world's rude strife, That anguish and resentment have not life Within the heart that ye so quiet deem:

In this forc'd stillness only, I sustain My thought and feeling, wearied out with pain! Floating as‘ twere upon some wild abyss, Whence, silent Patience, bending o'er the brink,

Would rescue them with strong and steady hand, And join again, by that connecting link, Which now is broken:— O, respect her care! Respect her in this fearful self-command!

No moment teems with greater woe than this, Should she but pause, or falter in despair!

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SONNET. · Matilda Betham · Poetry Cove