Thomas Gordon Hake (1809-1895)
"I am glad to be able to give this sonnet by one who has written so much and such original poetry as Dr. Hake has done. Dr. Hake has written few sonnets. [This one] is not from any of his volumes of verse, but is taken from The Academy, where it appeared in April, 1884." (Sharp)
Is this thy Paphos,--the devoted place
Where rests, in its own eventide, thy shrine?
To thee not lone is solitude divine
Where love-dreams o'er thy waves each other chase
And melt into the passion of thy face!
The twilight waters, dolphin-stained, are thine;
The silvery depths and blue, night-orbed, entwine,
And in bright films thy rosy form embrace,--
Girdling thy loins with heaven-spun drapery
Wove in the looms of thy resplendent sea.
The columns point their shadows to the plain,
And ancient days are dialed o'er again;
The floods remember: falling at thy feet,
Upon the sands of time they ever beat.
(Text from Sonnets of This Century)