Sonett-Forum

Written on an eminence over-hanging the sea

Ye rocks sublime, whose tops depending o’er
The restless main, form my rude lonely seat,
Where oft I listen to the solemn roar
Of foaming billows, breaking at my feet;

In your retreats can peace of mind be found,
Contend bliss, seenely sweet repose?
Ah, yes! the gales that whisper soft around,
Seem like meek Pity’s voice to heal my woes.

Now, while I watch the waves as on they roll,
And mark their white heads at a distance rise,
Peace once again returns unto my soul,

And pale despair far from my bosom flies.
Sweet, soothing Nature! on thy friendly breast
Reposing, all my griefs are lull’d to rest.