Charlotte Turner Smith (Шарлотта Смит)

Sonnet 66. The Night-Flood Rakes

The night-flood rakes upon the stony shore;
   Along the rugged cliffs and chalky caves
Mourns the hoarse Ocean, seeming to deplore
   All that are buried in his restless waves—
Mined by corrosive tides, the hollow rock
   Falls prone, and rushing from its turfy height,
Shakes the broad beach with long-resounding shock,
   Loud thundering on the ear of sullen Night;
Above the desolate and stormy deep,
   Gleams the wan Moon, by floating mist opprest;
Yet here while youth, and health, and labour sleep,
   Alone I wander—Calm untroubled rest,
   "Nature's soft nurse," deserts the sigh-swoln breast,
And shuns the eyes, that only wake to weep!

1. Sonnet 13. From Petrarch (OH! place me where the burning moon)
2. Sonnet 16. From Petrarch (YE vales and woods! fair scenes of happier hours!)
3. Sonnet 58. The Glow-Worm
4. Sonnet 39. To Night
5. Sonnet 83. The Sea View

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