 | Poems (1806) |  |
193
SONNET I.
[While, just above yon hill, the orb of day]
While, just above yon hill, the orb of daySlopes down the vale his beams of evening bright;
Eastward the wat'ry clouds, in dark array,
Oppose their shadows to the dazzling light:
And while, amid the foliage of the wood,
The statelier trees their burnish'd stems unfold;
The shower descends, and o'er the illumin'd flood
The willow-leaflets trickle tears of gold.
Such are thy charms, O Nature, wond'rous dame!
Such are the splendid visions which arise,
Kindling sweet Poesy's celestial flame,
Oft as they play before the enthusiast's eyes;
Who loves to wander through thy haunts, and loves
To sketch those beauties which his soul approves.
E.
| Poems (1806) | |