The piteous sobs that choke the Virgin's breath <br />For him, the fair betrothed Youth, who les <br />Cold in the narrow dwelling, or the cries <br />With which a Mother wails her Darling's death, <br />These from our Nature's common impulse spring <br />Unblamed, unpraised; but o'er the piled earth, <br />Which hides the sheeted corse of gray-haired Worth, <br />If droops the soaring Youth with slackened wing; <br />If he recall in saddest minstrelsy <br />Each tenderness bestowed, each truth impressed; <br />Such Grief is Reason, Virtue, Piety! <br />And from the Almighty Father shall descend <br />Comforts on his late Evening, whose young breast <br />Mourns with no transient love the aged friend.<br /><br />Samuel Taylor Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xx-4/
