Laura Sophia Temple (Лаура София Темпл)

Sonnet 1. To the Evening Gale

I love thee, wanton Wind! I love thy wing
To gently winnow my recumbent form,
As on the moss-grown steep my length I fling,
And listen to the billows mutt'ring storm.

Then do I think me of those lovesome hours
When Hope had first unfurl'd her golden sail,
When 'midst the shade of world-secluded bow'rs,
I felt thy nectar'd breath,--thou balmy Gale.

Yes! it was sweet, 'twas "passing" sweet, to hear
The wand'ring cadence of thy trembling tongue,
For ah ! a voice, to sad remembrance dear,
Oft its low sweetness on thy pinion hung.
Pour then, oh breeze ! thy soft and charmful trill,
And I will think I catch its sweetness still.

1. Sonnet 4. To the BANKS of the EX
2. The Discarded Lover
3. Morning Walk
4. To the Genius of Romance
5. An Address to Apathy

Распечатать (To print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1438

Последние стихотворения

To English version