Ah! quiet day, I oft recal the time, When I did chace my childish sluggishness, (The "rear of darkness ling'ring still") to dress In due sort for thy coming: the first chime Of blithesome bells, that usher'd in the morn, Carol'd to me of rest and simplest mirth : "Twas then all happiness on the wide earth To gaze ! I little dreamt, that man was born For ought but wholesome toil and holiest praise Thanking that God who made him to rejoice! But I am changed now! nor could I raise My sunken spirit at thy well-known voice; But that thou seemest soothingly to say, "Look up poor mourner, to a BETTER DAY." SONNET XII. ON THE APPROACH OF AUTUMN. Farewell! gay Summer! now the changing wind That Autumn brings, commands thee to retreat, It fades the roses which thy temples bind And the green sandals which adorn thy feet. Now flies with thee the walk at eventide That fav'ring hour to bright-ey'd Fancy dear, When most she loves to seek the mountain side And mark the pomp of twilight hast'ning near. Ah then, what faery forms around her throng! On every cloud a magic charm she sees : Sweet Evening these delights to thee belong, But now alas! comes Autumn's chilling breeze And early night attendant on its sway Rears in her envious veil, sweet fancy's hour away. A. OPIE. 1793. SONNET XIII. Why will you break upon my sorrows? why Oh I am drunk with Sorrow's bitter bowl, Haunts me; and Hope that rais'd her beauteous brow Erewhile in sorrow smiling, as the flower Blooms thro' the dew, now droops. The gloomy hour Awhile to calm the troubled waves of woe. S. F.. SONNET XIV. How soothing sweet methinks it is to walk Of hopeless Love, and weep upon my wounds, Thus breathing many a plaint and many a sigh, I gaze the moon with fondly-fixed eye Musing on many a lovely vision fled Hopeless and sad, till down I sink to rest, By sorrow, silence, solitude, opprest.. S. F. SONNET XV. That gooseberry-bush attracts my wandering eyes, When those grey woods shall don their summer dress I sit and think that soon the advancing year With golden flowers shall star the verdant vale. Then may the enthusiast Youth at eve's lone hour, Led by mild Melancholy's placid power, Go listen to the soothing nightingale And feed on meditation; while that I Remain at home and feed on gooseberry-pye. K |