University of Virginia Library

SONNETS.

SONNET I.

[While, just above yon hill, the orb of day]

While, just above yon hill, the orb of day
Slopes 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.

SONNET II.

[O Circle, whether erst the lightning's lance]

O Circle, whether erst the lightning's lance
With its keen azure shot thy wavy way;
Or—such the tales of village maidens, say—
The merry Fayes (what time their troops advance
To thread the fleeting mazes of the dance,
While bends dim Iris in the lunar ray)
Form'd, as they tripp'd with many a twinkling glance,
Thy ring, to speak their revels to the day;
Still fancying, lovely Circle, that I trace
Amid the features of thy fading dyes,
The little footsteps of the faery race—
Still, 'round the springing verdure, shall arise
In soft relief, thy gently-curving grace—
Too trivial but for fond poetic eyes!

SONNET III.

[Tho' now pale Eve, with many a crimson streak]

Tho' now pale Eve, with many a crimson streak
Soft-fading, tips the lime-invested hill;
And though blue steams emerging from the lake
Roll curling on, and hover o'er the rill;
The smoke, that slow evolves its pillar'd form
From yonder straw-roof'd cottage, sweetly throws
O'er my hush'd bosom a superior charm,
And seems to breathe a cherub-like repose!
With its grey column to yon' sapphire cloud
Stealing in stillness the calm mind ascends—
The unruffled line, though lost amid the shroud
Of heaven, in fancy rising never ends!
Thus ever may my tranquil spirit rise—
Free from the gust of passion—to the skies!

SONNET IV.

[How sweet—what time the quick-rekindling day]

How sweet—what time the quick-rekindling day
His orient colours on my dove-cote streams;
Whose gilding blushes in the vivid ray,
And o'er my window flings reflected beams;
How sweet to listen to thy cooing note,
While slumbers softly leave the unsealed eye,
And on my pillow lights the placid thought
To bid the hovering dream of morning fly!
Yes, gentle Dove! may still thy plaintive tone
Be the first rural sound to meet my ear!
And still this breast such simple pleasures own,
That, as a lesson, I may love to hear;
And picture, with no gall to give offence,
Wafted on every note, thy innocence?

SONNET V.

[Lorn Birds! whose simple minstrelsy, the last]

Lorn Birds! whose simple minstrelsy, the last
That nature pouring on the pensive ear,
Bids echo back her vernal music past,
And breathe a requiem o'er the closing year;
Who, while the softest pity loves to steal
From every cadence of your melting strain;
Ah, who suspects such little breasts can feel
Ungentle strife, or work each other pain?
And yet, though seeming harmony of heart
Flow in the sweetness of each charming note;
Oft from the bitter fray ye bleeding part,
Torn the stain'd plume, and pierc'd the vocal throat!
Beneath the fairest aspect of disguise,
Alas, too oft the cruel bosom lies!

SONNET VI.

[While not a wing of insect-being floats]

While not a wing of insect-being floats,
And not a murmur moves the frozen air;
Yon' ice-clad sedge, with tremulous wave, denotes,
Amid the leafless copse, that life is there.
And lo, half-seen, the Bird of russet breast
And duskier pinion, that had cleft the skies
Of wild inhospitable climes, in quest
Of the warm spring, his plashy labour plies.
Feed on, poor bird, beneath the sheltering copse;
And near thee may no wanton spaniel stray!
Or rising, when dim eve her curtain drops,
Ah! may no net arrest thy darkling way!
But long unpent by frost, o'erflow the rill;
And many an insect meet thy delving bill!

SONNET VII. TO A YOUNG LADY, ON HER WEARING A VEIL,

WRITTEN JUNE 1790.

As when some goddess, from the ethereal height
Descending, wraps in clouds her beauty's blaze;
She hides from mortals the refulgent light,
Lest they should perish, as they fondly gaze.
'Tis thus, in kind relief, the veiling shade
Softens that bloom, those eyes suffusing fire
Lest, dazzled as we look, too lovely Maid,
We sink in faint delirium, and expire!
Yet the sweet influence of the shaded eye,
The charming languish of a face so fair;
Thy modest blush, like the mild morning sky,
Thy timid glance, thy meek retiring air,
Such tenderness to all thy beauties give,
That only with a trembling heart we live!

SONNET VIII. TO A COLLEGE FRIEND; ON HIS EXPRESSING HIS APPREHENSIONS, THAT THE AUTHOR HAD FORGOTTEN HIM.

WRITTEN AUGUST 1791.

How, B---ye, can thy fears behold,
Alas! so great a change in me;
Or idly deem my heart so cold,
That I no more remember thee?
Oh!—thou canst bid new pleasure bloom,
A sun, my kindling morn to light;
And thou canst gild affliction's gloom,
A star, through many a stormy night!
Though, far from fancy's roseate bower,
Care-worn and faint I bend my way,
Nor can recall the vacant hour
When youth, on roving wing, was gay;
Yet, still thy friendly form I see—
And still this heart remembers thee!

SONNET X. TO THE SAME. [A COLLEGE FRIEND]

Yes! thou art doom'd to meet full many a frown,
Perhaps, from pride's rude offspring, who despise
The worth of tremulous diffidence, and crown
Each dazzling attribute with virtue's prize.
Yet, if amidst the stormy wilderness
Of life, some friend thy gentle spirit find;
Spite of the unfeeling million, he shall bless,
With warm sincerity, thy kindred mind.
But trust not the fond look, the specious smile:
Nor deem that o'er thy path the unsetting light
Of friendship beams.—Alas! if free from guile,
Thou wilt the poor, the timid caution slight!
How hard their lot, who feel its value most,
To shed the bitter tear for friendship lost!

SONNET XI. TO THE SAME. [A COLLEGE FRIEND]