Sonnet LXXXVIII. The Prospect A Flooded Vale.

The three following Sonnets are written in the character of Werter; the sentiments and images chiefly, but not intirely taken from one of his letters. Up this bleak Hill, in wintry Night's dread hour, With mind congenial to the scene, I come! To see my Valley in the lunar gloom, To see it whelm'd. - Amid the cloudy lour Gleams the cold Moon; - and shows the ruthless power Of yon swoln Floods, that white with turbid foam Roll o'er the fields; - and, billowy as they roam, Against the bushes beat! - A Vale no more, A troubled Sea, toss'd by the furious Wind! - Alas! the wild and angry Waves efface Pathway, and hedge, and bank, and stile! - I find But one wide waste of waters! - In controul Thus dire, to tides of Misery and Disgrace Love opes the flood-gates of my struggling Soul.