SONNET XVII.

Ah! why have I indulg'd my dazzled sight

With scenes in Hope's delusive mirror shown?

Scenes, that too seldom human Life has known

In kind accomplishment;--but O! how bright

The rays, that gilded them with varied light

Alternate! oft swift flashing on the boon

That might at FAME's immortal shrine be won;

Then shining soft on tender LOVE's delight.--

Now, with stern hand, FATE draws the sable veil

O'er the frail glass!--HOPE, as she turns away,

The darken'd crystal drops.----Heavy and pale,

Rain-pouring clouds quench all the darts of day;

Low mourns the wind along the gloomy dale,

And tolls the Death-bell in the pausing gale.

Original sonnets on various subjects; and odes paraphrased from Horace · 第 32 / 228 题