Poem by Charlotte Turner Smith

Sonnet 13. From Petrarch (OH! place me where the burning moon)

OH! place me where the burning moon
Forbids the wither'd flower to blow;
Or place me in the frigid zone,
On mountains of eternal snow:
Let me pursue the steps of Fame,
Or Poverty's more tranquil road;
Let youth's warm tide my veins inflame,
Or sixty winters chill my blood:
Though my fond soul to Heaven were flown,
Or though on earth 'tis doom'd to pine,
Prisoner or free--obscure or known,
My heart, oh Laura! still is thine.
Whate'er my destiny may be,
That faithful heart still burns for thee!

1. Sonnet 85. The Fairest Flowers Are Gone! For Tempests Fell
2. Sonnet 51. Supposed to have been written in the Hebrides
3. Sonnet 64. Here from the Restless Bed of Lingering Pain
4. Sonnet 27. Sighing I See Yon Little Troop at Play
5. Sonnet 43. The Unhappy Exile

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