Sonnets :: :: University of Virginia Library

How art thou chang'd, my birth-place, once the land
Where mirth proverbial as thy bounty reign'd,
Ere art, miscall'd improvement, had restrain'd
Those joys for which we grieve. Lo, where I stand,
The cheerful sun no longer may be seen.
Streams where in boyhood I was wont to sport,
Polluted now, no more are the resort
Of such as quiet seek. Time once has been,
When yonder spire alone was seen to rise,
Where now obnoxious chimneys pierce the skies
Tainting the air, while 'neath their sultry walls
Mechanic childhood for scant pittance toils,
Whose melancholy doom the heart appals,
From which in vain the pitying Muse recoils.