Poem by Charlotte Turner Smith

Sonnet 75. Where the Wild Woods and Pathless Forests Frown

WHERE the wild woods and pathless forests frown,
The darkling Pilgrim seeks his unknown way,
Till on the grass he throws him weary down,
To wait in broken sleep the dawn of day:
Through boughs just waving in the silent air,
With pale capricious light the summer moon
Chequers his humid couch; while Fancy there,
That loves to wanton in the night's deep noon,
Calls from the mossy roots and fountain edge
Fair visionary Nymphs that haunt the shade,
Or Naiads rising from the whispering sedge:
And, 'mid the beauteous group, his dear loved maid
Seems beckoning him with smiles to join the train:
Then, starting from his dream, he feels his woes again!

1. Sonnet 85. The Fairest Flowers Are Gone! For Tempests Fell
2. Sonnet 43. The Unhappy Exile
3. Sonnet 8. To Spring
4. Sonnet 66. The Night-Flood Rakes
5. Sonnet 16. From Petrarch (YE vales and woods! fair scenes of happier hours!)

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