Sonnet LXXXVIII

THE PROSPECT A FLOODED VALE.

Sonnet written in the character of Werter.

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.