Here you will find the Poem Sonnet LXXXIV. To The Muse of poet Charlotte Smith
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 press'd, From my faint eyes thy graceful form recedes; Thou canst not heal a heart like mine that bleeds; But, when in quiet earth that heart shall rest, Haply mayst thou one sorrowing vigil keep, Where Pity and Remembrance bend and weep!
