As on a hill-top rude, when closing day <br />Imbrowns the scene, some past'ral maiden fair <br />Waters a lovely foreign plant with care, <br />That scarcely can its tender bud display <br />Borne from its native genial airs away, <br />So, on my tongue these accents new and rare <br />Are flow'rs exotic, which Love waters there, <br />While thus, o sweetly scornful! I essay <br />Thy praise in verse to British ears unknown, <br />And Thames exchange for Arno's fair domain; <br />So Love has will'd, and oftimes Love has shown <br />That what He wills he never wills in vain. <br />Oh that this hard and steril breast might be <br />To Him who plants from heav'n, a soil as free.<br /><br />William Cowper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-ii-translated-from-milton/
