Sonnet LXXXVIII The Prospect a Flooded Vale
The three following Sonnets are written in the character of Werter; the sentiments and images chiefly, but not intirely taken from one of his letters.
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.