Written at Exmouth, Midsummer, 1795. <br />FALL, dews of Heaven, upon my burning breast, <br />Bathe with cool drops these ever-streaming eyes, <br />Ye gentle Winds, that fan the balmy West, <br />With the soft rippling tide of morning rise, <br />And calm my bursting heart, as here I keep <br />The vigil of the wretched!--Now away <br />Fade the pale stars, as wavering o'er the deep <br />Soft rosy tints announce another day, <br />The day of Middle Summer!--Ah! in vain <br />To those who mourn like me, does radiant June <br />Lead on her fragrant hours; for hopeless pain <br />Darkens with sullen clouds the Sun of Noon, <br />And veil'd in shadows Nature's face appears <br />To hearts o'erwhelm'd with grief, to eyes suffused with tears.<br /><br />Charlotte Smith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-lxviii-2/
