Sonnet LXXIII. Translation.
He who a tender long-lov'd Wife survives, Sees himself sunder'd from the only mind Whose hopes, and fears, and interests, were combin'd, And blended with his own. - No more she lives! No more, alas! her death-numb'd ear receives His thoughts, that trace the Past, or anxious wind The Future's darkling maze! - His wish refin'd, The wish to please, exists no more, that gives The will its energy, the nerves their tone! - He feels the texture of his quiet torn, And stopt the settled course that Action drew; Life stands suspended - motionless - till thrown By outward causes, into channels new; - But, in the dread suspense, how sinks the Soul forlorn!
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"He who a tender long-lov'd Wife survives,..."
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