English poem
Sonnet IX (BLEST is yon shepherd, on the…)
by Charlotte Smith (1749–1806)
BLEST is yon shepherd, on the turf reclined, Who on the varied clouds which float above Lies idly gazing2while his vacant mind Pours out some tale antique of rural love! Ah! he has never felt the pangs that move Th' indignant spirit, when with selfish pride, Friends, on whose faith the trusting heart rely'd, Unkindly shun th' imploring eye of woe! The ills they ought to sooth, with taunts deride, And laugh at tears themselves have forced to flow. Nor his rude bosom those fine feelings melt, Children of Sentiment and Knowledge born, Thro' whom each shaft with cruel force is felt, Empoison'd by deceit2or barb'd with scorn.
More by Charlotte Smith
- Sonnet I (he partial Muse, has from my…)
- Sonnet II (THE garlands fade that Spring so…)
- Sonnet III (POOR melancholy bird—that all night long…)
- Sonnet IV (QUEEN of the silver bow!—by thy…)
- Sonnet L (FAREWEL, ye lawns!—by fond remembrance blest…)
- Sonnet LI (ON this lone island, whose unfruitful…)
- Sonnet LII (FALTERING and sad the unhappy Pilgrim…)
- Sonnet LIII (THE shivering native, who by Tenglio's…)