Poem by Charlotte Turner Smith

Sonnet 19. To Mr. Haley

On receiving some elegant lines from him.

FOR me the Muse a simple band design'd
Of 'idle' flowers that bloom the woods among,
Which, with the cypress and the willow join'd,
A garland form'd as artless as my song.
And little dared I hope its transient hours
So long would last; composed of buds so brief;
Till Hayley's hand among the vagrant flowers,
Threw from his verdant crown a deathless leaf.
For high in Fame's bright fane has Judgment placed
The laurel wreath Serena's poet won,
Which, woven with myrtles by the hands of Taste,
The Muse decreed for this her favourite son.
And those immortal leaves his temples shade,
Whose fair, eternal verdure--shall not fade! 

1. Sonnet 85. The Fairest Flowers Are Gone! For Tempests Fell
2. Sonnet 21. Supposed to Written by Werter
3. Sonnet 9. Blest is yon shepherd, on the turf reclined
4. Sonnet 75. Where the Wild Woods and Pathless Forests Frown
5. Sonnet 27. Sighing I See Yon Little Troop at Play

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