Charlotte Turner Smith (Шарлотта Смит)

Sonnet 85. The Fairest Flowers Are Gone! For Tempests Fell

THE fairest flowers are gone! for tempests fell,
    And with wild wing swept some unblown away,
While on the upland lawn or rocky dell
    More faded in the day-star's ardent ray;
And scarce the copse, or hedge-row shade beneath,
    Or by the runnel's grassy course, appear
    Some lingering blossoms of the earlier year,
Mingling bright florets, in the yellow wreath
That Autumn with his poppies and his corn
    Binds on his tawny temples—So the schemes
Rais'd by fond Hope in youth's unclouded morn,
    While sanguine youth enjoys delusive dreams,
Experience withers; till scarce one remains
Flattering the languid heart, where only Reason reigns!

1. Sonnet 27. Sighing I See Yon Little Troop at Play
2. Sonnet 66. The Night-Flood Rakes
3. Sonnet 13. From Petrarch (OH! place me where the burning moon)
4. Sonnet 33. To the Naiad of the Arun
5. Sonnet 21. Supposed to Written by Werter

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