 | Nugae Canorae |  |
179
SONNET V.
[When witching evening wore her shadows dim]
1796.
When witching evening wore her shadows dim,
Those big-swoln broodings oft I sought to wake,
Which made my lone heart fancifully ache;
And wayward tears unnoticed still would swim,
Filling each “idle orb!” And I have loved
This mystic transport; me the wildering hour
Soothed; and dim vested Silence seemed to pour
Balm, such as might befit a wretch that roved,
Sicklied with thought. Nor was not this my lot!
Now was I mazed with strange perplexities,
And now to my tranced sprite such dreams would rise,
That when I waked, I wept “to find them not!”
Wept that stern reason chased with blasting eye
The feverish mind's fantastic imagery.
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