Charlotte Smith

EN o'er the copses spring's soft hues are spreading,
High wave the reeds in the transparent floods,
The oak its sear and sallow foliage shedding,
From their moss'd cradles start its infant buds

The dark and pillowy cloud, the sallow trees, Seem o'er the ruins of the year to mourn;
And, cold and hollow, the inconstant breeze Sobs thro' the falling leaves and wither'd fern
O'er the tall brow of yonder chalky bourn,
The eveni...

Huge vapours brood above the clifted shore, Night o'er the ocean settles, dark and mute, Save where is heard the repercussive roar Of drowsy billows, on the rugged foot Of rocks remote; or still more distant tone Of seamen, in the anchored bark, t...

Scene, on the Cliffs to the Eastward of the Town
Brighthelmstone in Sussex
Time, a Morning in November, 1792
Slow in the Wintry Morn, the struggling

The gorse is yellow on the heath,
The banks with speedwell flowers are gay,
The oaks are budding, and, beneath,
The hawthorn soon will bear the wreath,

EN of the silver bow
--by thy pale beam,
Alone and pensive,
I delight to stray,

On a Stone, in the Church-Yard at Boreham,
Essex; raised by the Honourable Elizabeth Olmius,to the memory of Ann Gardner, who died at
Hall, after a faithful Service of Forty Years
TE'ER of praise, and of regret attend The grateful s...