Sonnet: - XIX.
How my heart yearns towards my friends at home! Poor suffering souls, whose lives are like the trees, Bent, crushed, and broken in the storm of life! A whirlwind of existence seems to roam Through some poor hearts continually. These Have neither rest nor pause; one day is rife With tempest, and another dashed with gloom; And the few rays of light that might illume Their thorny path are drenched with tearful rain. Yet these pure souls live not their lives in vain; For they become as spiritual guides And lights to others; rising with the tides Of their full being into higher spheres, Brighter and brighter still through all the coming years.
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"How my heart yearns towards my friends at home!..."
This evocative piece by Charles Sangster, titled "Sonnet: - XIX.", represents a masterful exploration of classic. The lines capture a profound emotional resonance... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...