A Sonnet is a moment's monument, br Memorial from the Soul's eternity br To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be, br Whether for lustral rite or dire portent, br Of its own arduous fulness reverent: br Carve it in ivory or in ebony, br As Day or Night may rule; and let Time see br Its flowering crest impearl'd and orient. br br A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals br The soul,--its converse, to what Power 'tis due: -- br Whether for tribute to the august appeals br Of Life, or dower in Love's high retinue, br It serve; or, 'mid the dark wharf's cavernous breath, br In Charon's palm it pay the toll to Death.