Poem by Charlotte Turner Smith

Sonnet 63. The Gossamer

O'er faded heath-flowers spun, or thorny furze,
  The filmy Gossamer is lightly spread;
Waving in every sighing air that stirs,
  As Fairy fingers had entwined the thread:
A thousand trembling orbs of lucid dew
  Spangle the texture of the fairy loom,
As if soft Sylphs, lamenting as they flew,
  Had wept departed Summer's transient bloom:
But the wind rises, and the turf receives
  The glittering web: — So, evanescent, fade
Bright views that Youth with sanguine heart believes:
  So vanish schemes of bliss, by Fancy made;
Which, fragile as the fleeting dews of morn,
Leave but the wither'd heath, and barren thorn!

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 66. The Night-Flood Rakes
5. Sonnet 33. To the Naiad of the Arun

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