University of Virginia Library

SONNETS.

SONNET I. ON THE SHIPS SAILING FOR BOTANY-BAY.

Fresh o'er the wave the winds that fav'ring blow
Fill the swoln sails. Genius of Albion, say
Why yon swift vessel cleaves the wat'ry way?
Is it to hurl thy vengeance on the foe;
To plunge 'mid untried seas th'adventurous prow;
Or to new isles where nature's children stray,
Arts yet untaught, and fruits unknown convey?
Alas, for Britain! fraught with guilt and woe,
Groans the o'erburden'd ship. The farewell sound
Rings mournfully. Father of Mercy, hear!
Chastis'd by labour, when the exiles earn
By their brows' sweat their bread, oh! may the tear
Of penitence drop on the soil, and turn
To blessing thy dread curse that smote the ground.

SONNET II. A MOTHER TO HER SLEEPING CHILD.

“Ah, happy child! when hanging o'er thy sleep
“A mother fondly bends, watching the while
“Upon thy glowing cheek the dimpled smile
“Soft playing, as the breeze that fans the deep
“In the mild summer noon: Oh! may this sigh,
“That will have way, not rudely smite thine ear;
“Nor dropping on thy placid brow this tear
“Wake thee: at sight of grief, thou know'st not why,
“Poor babe! thy sympathizing tear might flow:
“Sleep on, nor taste before thy time the woe
“That racks me, fearful of thy future doom.
“How bright thy dawn of life! ah, may thy eve
“Set thus, unclouded by misfortune's gloom!
“Sleep then in peace, nor hear the sigh I heave.”

SONNET III. THE SUICIDE.

Sad daughter of distress! who in the bloom
Of beauty, bow'd with misery and woe,
In the dark grave art laid untimely low,
Rest! life's bleak storm is past, though by the doom
Of ruthless man, beneath unholy ground,
Thy corse amid the beaten pathway cast,
Lies where the wild birch quivers in the blast;
Yet soft descending through the stony mound,
The dew of heaven shall bathe thy clay-cold breast;
Yet shall thy suff'rings, scorn'd on earth, atone,
Where mercy dwells on high, for life's sad close;
And pity musing oft at eve alone,
On the green sod where grief and pain repose,
Shall soothe with hymns of peace thy soul to rest.

SONNET IV. THE FIRE-SIDE.

Let others hail the youthful year, when springs
Loveliest on hill and dale the blooming flow'r;
Or wand'ring where deep woods the path embow'r,
View the warm tints that autumn gradual flings
Upon the foliage of the quiv'ring trees:
Me, nor on hill and dale the flow'rs that blow,
Nor woods in autumn tints that warmly glow,
So charm, as Winter, when the bitter breeze
Mournfully howls along the barren plain;
And falls the flaky snow, and pelting rain
Beats hard the roof: then friends, long absent, crowd
Around my social hearth; now ling'ring keep
Vigils o'er plaintive tales that banish sleep;
Now join in Christmas mirth with laughter loud.

SONNET V. THE WINTER's MORN.

Artist unseen! that dipt in frozen dew
Hast on the glitt'ring glass thy pencil laid,
Ere from yon sun the transient visions fade,
Swift let me trace the forms thy fancy drew!
Thy tow'rs and palaces of diamond hue,
Rivers and lakes of lucid crystal made,
And hung in air hoar trees of branching shade,
That liquid pearl distil;—thy scenes renew,
Whate'er old bards, or later fictions feign,
Of secret grottos underneath the wave,
Where Nereids roof with spar the amber cave;
Or bow'rs of bliss, where sport the fairy train;
Who frequent by the moonlight wand'rer seen,
Circle with radiant gems the dewy green.

SONNET VI. ON DESCENDING INTO A MINE.

Swart Demon of the mine! oft wont to ride
Upon the wings of death, within the womb
Of earth invisible; or through the gloom
Of thy dank cell in fiery vapour glide;
Or, like the Fates, with restless labour guide
The venom'd thread of the destructive loom,
Weaving the web of destiny;—the doom
That now hangs o'er me tremulous, turn aside!
For not impell'd by avarice, I explore
The haunts, where brooding o'er thy mineral birth,
Thou gem'st the sparry vein with lucid ray:
Me nature leads beneath thy cavern's hoar
Not wond'rous more, on ocean, air, and earth,
Than in thy secret subterraneous way.

SONNET VII. VORTIGERN's VALLEY.

To this deep hollow, hid from human view,
Where the bare cliffs, with loftiest mountains crown'd,
In their rude range the dreary glen surround,
From Britain's throne base Vortigern withdrew.
Oft flung on the steep rock in mad despair,
In every sail that flutter'd near the coast
Viewing the streamer of the Saxon host,
From his ag'd head he rudely rent the hair,
And to the cavern fled. In every star
That on the mountain shot its meteor ray,
He view'd their beacon flashing from afar.
The livid corse stretch'd on yon summit lay,
When heav'n's avenging thunder smote his head,
And fierce 'mid ravings wild the ling'ring spirit fled.

SONNET VIII. A FANCY SKETCH.

I knew a gentle Maid: I ne'er shall view
Her like again: and yet the vulgar eye
Might pass the charms I trac'd, regardless by;
For pale her cheek, unmark'd with roseate hue;
Nor beam'd from her mild eye a dazzling glance;
Nor flash'd her nameless graces on the sight;
Yet beauty never woke such pure delight.
Fine was her form, as Dian's in the dance;
Her voice was musick, in her silence dwelt
Expression, every look instinct with thought:
Though oft her mind by youth to rapture wrought,
Struck forth wild wit, and fancies ever new,
The lightest touch of woe her soul would melt:
And on her lips, when gleam'd a ling'ring smile,
Pity's warm tear gush'd down her cheek the while:
Thy like, thou gentle Maid! I ne'er shall view.

SONNET IX. ON THE PRIORY IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

Varied thy views of cliff, and gleaming spire,
Verdant thy turf, thy banks with flow'rets bloom,
And wide thy groves o'ershade with grateful gloom
The sunny slope; yet fain would I retire
Far from the scene! for as the lawn I tread,
Yon mark, by the wild billows lash'd around,
Tow'rs, where at once the brave without a wound
Untimely perish'd. Loud, with screamings dread,
The sea-mews flutter round the naked mast,
And the lone bittern wailing to the blast,
Shrieks like the death cry. In each ruder wave
That bursts upon the cliff, the groan I hear
Of horror, when 'mid friends that could not save,
Hopeless they sunk within the wat'ry bier.

SONNET X. RHINEFIELD.

Rhinefield! as through thy solitude I rove,
Now lost amid the deep wood's gloomy night,
Doubtful I trace a ray of glimmering light;
Now where some antique oak, itself a grove,
Spreads its broad umbrage o'er the sunny glade,
Stretch'd on its mossy roots, at early dawn,
While o'er the furze with light-bound leaps the fawn,
I count the herd that crop the dewy blade:
Frequent at eve list to the hum profound,
That all around upon the chill breeze floats,
Broke by the lonely keeper's wild strange notes,
At distance follow'd by the browsing deer;
Or the bewilder'd stranger's plaintive sound,
That dies in less'ning murmurs on the ear.

SONNET XI. ON CASTLE DINAS BRAN.

When rising slow from Deva's wizard stream,
The blue mists borne on the autumnal gale,
Cloud the deep windings of Llangollen's vale,
And the high cliff glows with day's latest gleam;
Dinas, while on thy brow in pensive dream
Reclin'd, no sounds of earth my ear assail,
I bid the ancient chiefs of Britain hail.
Spirits! who oft beneath the nightly beam
Strike the boss'd shield, or blow the martial horn;
Or mournful on the castle's wreck forlorn,
Sigh to the sorrows of the Druid's lyre:
O let me join the visionary choir!
That I may hear the tales of former times,
And drink with ear devout the bard's historic rhymes.

SONNET XII. SKIRID, A HILL NEAR ABERGAVENNY.

Skirid! remembrance thy lov'd scene renews;
Fancy, yet ling'ring on thy shaggy brow,
Beholds around the lengthen'd landscape glow,
Which charm'd, when late the day-beams' parting hues
Purpled the distant cliff. The crystal stream
Of Uske bright winds the verdant meads among;
The dark heights low'r with wild woods overhung;
Pale on the grey tow'r falls the twilight gleam;
And frequent I recall the sudden breeze,
Which, as the sun shot up his last pale flame,
Shook every light leaf shivering on the trees;
Then bath'd in dew, meek evening silent came,
While the low wind, that faint and fainter fell,
Soft murmur'd to the dying day—Farewell.

SONNET XIII. ON CROSSING THE ANGLESEY STREIGHT TO BANGOR, AT MIDNIGHT.

'Twas night, when from the Druid's gloomy cave,
Where I had wander'd, tranc'd in thought, alone,
'Mid Cromlech's and the Carnedd's funeral stone,
Pensive and slow I sought the Menaï's wave:
Lull'd by the scene, a soothing stillness laid
Each pang to rest. O'er Snowdon's cloudless brow
The moon that full orb'd rose, with peaceful glow
Beam'd on the rocks; with many a star array'd
Glitter'd the broad blue sky; from shore to shore
O'er the smooth current stream'd a silver light,
Save where along the flood, the lonely height
Of rocky Penmaen-maur deep darkness spread;
And all was silence, save the ceaseless roar
Of Conway bursting on the ocean's bed.

SONNET XIV. FAREWELL TO BEVIS MOUNT.

Mary! ere yet with ling'ring step we leave
These bow'rs, the haunt of peace, where many a year
Has o'er us past delightful; if a tear
Stray down my cheek, not for myself I grieve.
Here thou hadst fondly hop'd 'till life's last eve
To rest. On yonder bank the flow'rs appear,
Nurs'd by thy culture; there thy woodbines rear
Their tendrils. Thou! ah Thou, unseen, may'st heave
A sigh, what time we bid these groves farewell;
Yet in thy breast resides a soothing power
That sheds the sweet, not found in herb or flow'r.
Oh, Mary! what to us where doom'd to dwell?
Enough, that peace and thou can never part,
Belov'd of me the spot where'er thou art.