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Poem by Charlotte Turner Smith


Sonnet 5. To The South Downs


AH! hills beloved!--where once, a happy child,
Your beechen shades, 'your turf, your flowers among,'
I wove your blue-bells into garlands wild,
And woke your echoes with my artless song.
Ah! hills beloved!--your turf, your flowers remain;
But can they peace to this sad breast restore,
For one poor moment soothe the sense of pain,
And teach a breaking heart to throb no more?
And you, Aruna!--in the vale below,
As to the sea your limpid waves you bear
Can you one kind Lethean cup bestow,
To drink a long oblivion to my care?
Ah! no!--when all, e'en Hope's last ray is gone,
There's no oblivion--but in death alone! 



                      Charlotte Turner Smith


Charlotte Turner Smith's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 63. The Gossamer
  2. Inscription
  3. Sonnet 3. To a Nightingale
  4. Sonnet 42. Composed During a Walk
  5. Sonnet 7. Sweet Poet of the Woods


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