Poems (Temple)/Sonnet 1
Sonnets.
SONNET I.To the EVENING GALE.
I love thee, wanton Wind! I love thy wing
To gently winnow my recumbent form,
As on the moss-grown steep my length I fling,
And listen to the billows mutt'ring storm.
To gently winnow my recumbent form,
As on the moss-grown steep my length I fling,
And listen to the billows mutt'ring storm.
Then do I think me of those lovesome hours
When Hope had first unfurl'd her golden sail,
When 'midst the shade of world-secluded bow'rs,
I felt thy nectar'd breath,—thou balmy Gale.
When Hope had first unfurl'd her golden sail,
When 'midst the shade of world-secluded bow'rs,
I felt thy nectar'd breath,—thou balmy Gale.
Yes! it was sweet, 'twas "passing" sweet, to hear
The wand'ring cadence of thy trembling tongue,
For ah! a voice, to sad remembrance dear,
Oft its low sweetness on thy pinion hung.
Pour then, oh breeze! thy soft and charmful trill,
And I will think I catch its sweetness still.
The wand'ring cadence of thy trembling tongue,
For ah! a voice, to sad remembrance dear,
Oft its low sweetness on thy pinion hung.
Pour then, oh breeze! thy soft and charmful trill,
And I will think I catch its sweetness still.
1801.