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! 

1. Sonnet 16. From Petrarch (YE vales and woods! fair scenes of happier hours!)
2. Sonnet 70. On Being Cautioned Against Walking on an Headland Overlooking the Sea Because It Was Frequented by a Lunatic
3. Sonnet 43. The Unhappy Exile
4. Sonnet 51. Supposed to have been written in the Hebrides
5. Sonnet 83. The Sea View

Print

1574 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version