All English Sonnets
Be strong enough to never offer reasons,
But during barren climes, fruitful seasons,
Encounter judgment merely with your acts,
And always deal with facts, merely facts.
And many are the moments, feeling sad,
Or like a whirl wind, crazy, curling mad,
Or blinded with a dark and weary sorrow,
Or cursing every yesterday and morrow.
You seem to stand on ruins of sheltered hope,
And blindly in the hapless present grope,
Or groan and murmur like an empty house,
Ah! at such very moments you must rouse.
Your courage from its slumber-not retreat,
And willy- nilly face the searing heat.