On A Portrait Of I.F., Painted By Margaret Gillies[410]

Composed 1840.--Published 1850

We gaze--nor grieve to think that we must die, But that the precious love this friend hath sown Within our hearts, the love whose flower hath blown Bright as if heaven were ever in its eye, Will pass so soon from human memory; And not by strangers to our blood alone, But by our best descendants be unknown, Unthought of--this may surely claim a sigh. Yet, blessèd Art, we yield not to dejection: Thou against Time so feelingly dost strive; Where’er, preserved in this most true reflection, An image of her soul is kept alive, Some lingering fragrance of the pure affection, Whose flower with us will vanish, must survive.

WILLIAM WORDSWORTH.

RYDAL MOUNT, New Year’s Day, 1840.

See the note to the next sonnet.--ED.