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Слушать(AI)Sonnet I
HE partial Muse, has from my earliest hours, Smil'd on the rugged path I'm doom'd to tread,
And still with sportive hand has snatch'd wild flowers, To weave fantastic garlands for my head:
But far, far happier is the lot of those Who never learn'd her dear delusive art;
Which, while it decks the head with many a rose, Reserves the thorn, to fester in the heart.
For still she bids soft Pity's melting eye Stream o'er the ills she knows not to remove,
Points every pang, and deepens every sigh Of mourning friendship or unhappy love.
Ah! then, how dear the Muse's favours cost,
If those paint sorrow best—who feel it most! o
Charlotte Smith
Charlotte Turner Smith (4 May 1749 – 28 October 1806) was an English Romantic poet and novelist. She initiated a revival of the English sonnet,
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Sonnet IV To The Moon
EN of the silver bow --by thy pale beam, Alone and pensive, I delight to stray,
Elegy
RK gathering clouds involve the threatening skies, The sea heaves conscious of the impending gloom, Deep, hollow murmurs from the cliffs arise; They come--the Spirits of the Tempest come
Sonnet V To The South Downs
AH hills beloved --where once, a happy child, Your beechen shades, 'your turf, your flowers among,'I wove your blue-bells into garlands wild,
Song I
OM HE CH OF AL
