Sonnet 7 (Miscellaneous Sonnets)

A lonely wanderer upon earth am I,
The waif of nature — like uprooted weed
Borne by the stream, or like a shaken reed,
A frail dependent of the fickle sky.
Far, far away, are all my natural kin :
The mother that erewhile hath hush"d my cry,
Almost hath grown a mere fond memory.
Where is my sister's smile? my brother's boisterous din ?
Ah ! nowhere now. A matron grave and sage,
A holy mother is that sister sweet.
And that hold brother is a pastor meet
To guide, instruct, reprove a sinful age.
Almost I fear, and yet I fain would greet ;
So far astray hath been my pilgrimage.