English poem
Sonnet LIX (WHAT awful pageants crowd the evening…)
by Charlotte Smith (1749–1806)
WHAT awful pageants crowd the evening sky! The low horizon gathering vapours shroud; Sudden, from many a deep-embattled cloud Terrific thunders burst and lightnings fly— While in serenest azure, beaming high, Night's regent, of her calm pavilion proud, Gilds the dark shadows that beneath her lie, Unvex'd by all their conflicts fierce and loud. 2So, in unsullied dignity elate, A spirit conscious of superior worth, In placid elevation firmly great, Scorns the vain cares that give Contention birth; And blest with peace above the shocks of Fate, Smiles at the tumult of the troubled earth.
More by Charlotte Smith
- 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…)
- Sonnet LIV (YE copses wild, where April bids…)
- Sonnet LV (BORNE on the warm wing of…)
- Sonnet LVI (IF, by his torturing, savage foes…)
- Sonnet LVII (DEPENDENCE! heavy, heavy are thy chains…)
- Sonnet LVIII (WHEN on some balmy-breathing night of…)