English poem
Sonnet LXXXIV (WILT thou forsake me who in…)
by Charlotte Smith (1749–1806)
WILT thou forsake me who in life's bright May Lent warmer lustre to the radiant morn; And even o'er Summer scenes by tempests torn, Shed with illusive light the dewy ray Of pensive pleasure? Wilt thou, while the day Of saddening Autumn closes, as I mourn In languid, hopeless sorrow, far away Bend thy soft step, and never more return?— Crush'd to the earth, by bitterest anguish prest, From my faint eyes thy graceful form recedes; Thou canst not heal an heart like mine that bleeds; But, when in quiet earth that heart shall rest, Haply may'st thou one sorrowing vigil keep, Where Pity and Remembrance bend and weep!
More by Charlotte Smith
- Sonnet LXXX (DARK and conceal'd art thou, soft…)
- Sonnet LXXXI (HE may be envied, who with…)
- Sonnet LXXXII (MUTE is thy wild harp, now,…)
- Sonnet LXXXIII (THE upland shepherd, as reclined he…)
- Sonnet LXXXIX (WHETHER awaken'd from unquiet rest…)
- Sonnet LXXXV (THE fairest flowers are gone! for…)
- Sonnet LXXXVII (THE blasts of Autumn as they…)
- Sonnet LXXXVIII (OH! for imperial Polydamna's art…)