SONNET I.

WRITTEN AT

TINEMOUTH, NORTHUMBERLAND,

AFTER A TEMPESTUOUS VOYAGE.

As slow I climb the cliff's ascending side,
Much musing on the track of terror past,
When o'er the dark wave rode the howling blast,
Pleas'd I look back, and view the tranquil tide
That laves the pebbl❜d shore: and now the beam
Of ev'ning smiles on the grey battlement,
And

yon forsaken tow'r that Time has rent:-
The lifted oar far off with silver gleam
Is touch'd, and hush'd is all the billowy deep!
Sooth'd by the scene, thus on tir'd Nature's breast
A stillness slowly steals, and kindred rest;
While sea-sounds lull her, as she sinks to sleep,
Like melodies which mourn upon the lyre,

Wak'd by the breeze, and, as they mourn, expire!

SONNET II.

AT

BAMBOROUGH CASTLE.

YE holy Towers that shade the wave-worn steep,
Long may ye rear your aged brows sublime,
Though, hurrying silent by, relentless Time
Assail you, and the winter whirlwind's sweep!
For far from blazing Grandeur's crowded halls,
Here Charity hath fix'd her chosen seat,

Oft list'ning tearful when the wild winds beat
With hollow bodings round your ancient walls;
And Pity, at the dark and stormy hour

Of midnight, when the moon is hid on high, Keeps her lone watch upon the topmost tow'r,

And turns her ear to each expiring cry;

Blest if her aid some fainting wretch might save, . And snatch him cold and speechless from the wave.

SONNET III.

ΤΟ ΤΗΣ

RIVER WENSBECK.

WHILE slowly wanders thy sequester'd stream,
WENSBECK! the mossy-scatter'd rocks among,
In fancy's ear still making plaintive song
To the dark woods above, that waving seem
To bend o'er some enchanted spot; remov'd
From life's vain coil, I listen to the wind,
And think I hear meek sorrow's plaint, reclin'd
O'er the forsaken tomb of one she lov'd!-
Fair scenes, ye lend a pleasure, long unknown,
To him who passes weary on his way-

The farewell tear, which now he turns to pay, Shall thank you;-and whene'er of pleasures flown His heart some long-lost image would renew, Delightful haunts! he will remember you

SONNET IV.

ΤΟ ΤΗΣ

RIVER TWEED.

●TWEED; a stranger, that with wandering feet O'er hill and dale has journey'd many a mile, (If so his weary thoughts he might beguile) Delighted turns thy beauteous scenes to greet. The waving branches that romantick bend

O'er thy tall banks, a soothing charm bestow; The murmurs of thy wand'ring wave below Seem to his ear the pity of a friend. Delightful stream! though now along thy shore, When spring returns in all her wonted pride, The shepherd's distant pipe is heard no more, Yet here with pensive peace could I abide, Far from the stormy world's tumultuous roar, To muse upon thy banks at eventide.