The speaker begins with a drooping muse, her mind full of a tearful, celestial sympathy. A light sprite called Fancy is urged to tie down time's restless wings with fleeting flowers—a futile, tender attempt to halt loss. Then, with arms folded and head bowed, a figure named Reflection sighs over the “dark scroll” of human destiny, where bright buds and wounding thorns are tangled together. The mood is hushed and sorrowful, a quiet grief over life’s inseparably mingled beauty and pain.
Suddenly, the sonnet turns to address Sky-born Virtue directly. Even though Fate often glares and adorns Virtue’s brow with a wreath of fame that sparkles with cold tears of sorrow, the speaker insists that Virtue will ultimately escape mere earthly honors. It will claim “more than mortal raptures,” becoming the brightest planet in an eternal sphere. The poem thus lifts from gentle melancholy into a soaring, almost heavenly confidence about the lasting reward of a virtuous soul.