From these wild heights, where oft the mists descend
In rains, that shroud the sun, and chill the gale,
Each transient, gleaming interval we hail,
And rove the naked vallies, and extend
Our gaze around, where yon vast mountains blend
With billowy clouds, that o'er their summits sail;
Pondering, how little Nature's charms befriend
The barren scene, monotonous, and pale.
Yet solemn when the darkening shadows fleet
Successive o'er the wide and silent hills,
Gilded by watry sun-beams, then we meet
Peculiar pomp of vision. Fancy thrills,
And owns there is no scene so rude and bare,
But Nature sheds or grace or grandeur there.
Seward, Anna. Original Sonnets on Various Subjects and Odes Paraphrased from Horace. London: G. Sael, 1799. Project Gutenberg EBook #27663 produced by Michael Roe and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team, 2008.
Last modified 22 August 2018