The unhappy exile, whom his fates confine <br />To the bleak coast of some unfriendly isle, <br />Cold, barren, desart, where no harvests smile, <br />But thirst and hunger on the rocks repine; <br />When, from some promontory's fearful brow, <br />Sun after sun he hopeless sees decline <br />In the broad shipless sea—perhaps may know <br />Such heartless pain, such blank despair as mine; <br />And, if a flattering cloud appears to show <br />The fancied semblance of a distant sail, <br />Then melts away—anew his spirits fail, <br />While the lost hope but aggravates his woe! <br />Ah! so for me delusive Fancy toils, <br />Then, from contrasted truth—my feeble soul recoils.<br /><br />Charlotte Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-xliii-the-unhappy-exile/
