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Elegiac sonnets, and other poems

by Charlotte Smith ... The eighth edition

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5

SONNET V. TO THE SOUTH DOWNS.

Ah! hills beloved!—where once, an happy child,
Your beechen shades, ‘your turf, your flowers among,’
I wove your blue-bells into garlands wild,
And woke your echoes with my artless song.
Ah! hills beloved!—your turf, your flowers remain;
But can they peace to this sad breast restore,
For one poor moment sooth the sense of pain,
And teach a breaking heart to throb no more?
And you, Aruna!—in the vale below,
As to the sea your limpid waves you bear,
Can you one kind Lethean cup bestow,
To drink a long oblivion to my care?
Ah! no!—when all, e'en Hope's last ray is gone,
There's no oblivion—but in death alone!