Anna Seward

Sonnet 82. From a riv'd Tree, that stands beside the grave

From a riv'd Tree, that stands beside the grave
    Of the Self-slaughter'd, to the misty Moon
    Calls the complaining Owl in Night's pale noon;
    And from a hut, far on the hill, to rave
Is heard the angry Ban-Dog. With loud wave
    The rous'd and turbid River surges down,
    Swoln with the mountain-rains, and dimly shown
    Appals the Sense.—Yet see! from yonder cave,
Her shelter in the recent, stormy showers,
    With anxious brow, a fond expecting Maid
    Steals towards the flood!—Alas!—for now appears
Her Lover's vacant boat!—the broken oars
    Roll down the tide!—What images invade!
    Aghast she stands, the Statue of her fears!