Sonnet 24

With groves so verdant, and with suns so bright,
With flow'ry meadows pac'd by blooming maids,
With lonely streams and cool o'er-arching shades,
Where plaintive birds the poets' ear delight;
With hanging rocks, on whose romantic height
Crawls the dark ivy; and with sunny glades,
Where scarce the vernal primrose ever fades;
Why art thou yet unpleasing to my fight?
In vain for him does beauteous Nature smile,
With whom no friends of soul congenial share
The dear enjoyments: ah! delightful scene,
Could'st thou indeed my frequent cares beguile,
Nor, thus recalling absent charms, impair.
Thy own, and make my moments less serene!
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.