Sonnet XLIII The Unhappy Exile
The unhappy exile, whom his fates confine To the bleak coast of some unfriendly isle, Cold, barren, desart, where no harvests smile, But thirst and hunger on the rocks repine; When, from some promontory's fearful brow, Sun after sun he hopeless sees decline In the broad shipless sea—perhaps may know Such heartless pain, such blank despair as mine; And, if a flattering cloud appears to show The fancied semblance of a distant sail, Then melts away—anew his spirits fail, While the lost hope but aggravates his woe! Ah! so for me delusive Fancy toils, Then, from contrasted truth—my feeble soul recoils.
Charlotte Smith
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Sonnet LXIII The Gossamer
O'er faded heath-flowers spun, or thorny furze, The filmy Gossamer is lightly spread; Waving in every sighing air that stirs, As Fairy fingers had entwined the thread: A thousand trembling orbs of lucid dew Spangle the texture of the fai...
Sonnet LXX On Being Cautioned Against Walking on an Headland Overlooking the Sea Because It Was Fr
Is there a solitary wretch who hies To the tall cliff, with starting pace or slow, And, measuring, views with wild and hollow eyes Its distance from the waves that chide below; Who, as the sea-born gale with frequent sighs Chills his col...
Sonnet XXXIX To Night From The Same
I VE thee, mournful, sober-suited Night When the faint moon, yet lingering in her wane, And veil'd in clouds, with pale uncertain
Sonnet II
Written at the close of Spring HE garlands fade that Spring so lately wove, Each simple flower, which she had nursed in dew, Anemonies, that spangled every grove, The primrose wan, and hare-bell mildly blue No more shall violets lin...
