SONNET XIII.   By W.L. Bowles   O Time! who know'st a lenient hand to lay Softest on sorrow's wound, and slowly thence, Lulling to sad repose the weary sense The faint pang stealest unperceived away; On Thee I rest my only hope at last, And think, when thou hast dried the bitter tear That…Read more Sonnet XIII/Sonetto XIII by W.L.Bowles