Hard by the road, where on that little mound

    The high grass rustles to the passing breeze,

    The child of Misery rests her head in peace.

  Pause there in sadness. That unhallowed ground

  Inshrines what once was Isabel. Sleep on

    Sleep on, poor Outcast! lovely was thy cheek,

    And thy mild eye was eloquent to speak

  The soul of Pity. Pale and woe-begone

  Soon did thy fair cheek fade, and thine eye weep

    The tear of anguish for the babe unborn,

    The helpless heir of Poverty and Scorn.

  She drank the draught that chill'd her soul to sleep.

  I pause and wipe the big drop from mine eye,

  Whilst the proud Levite scowls and passes by.

  SONNET VI

            to a brook near the village of Corston.

    As thus I bend me o'er thy babbling stream

      And watch thy current, Memory's hand pourtrays

      The faint form'd scenes of the departed days,

    Like the far forest by the moon's pale beam

    Dimly descried yet lovely. I have worn

      Upon thy banks the live-long hour away,

      When sportive Childhood wantoned thro' the day,

    Joy'd at the opening splendour of the morn,

    Or as the twilight darken'd, heaved the sigh

      Thinking of distant home; as down my cheek

      At the fond thought slow stealing on, would speak

    The silent eloquence of the full eye.

    Dim are the long past days, yet still they please

  As thy soft sounds half heard, borne on the inconstant breeze.

  SONNET VII

             to the evening rainbow.

  Mild arch of promise! on the evening sky

    Thou shinest fair with many a lovely ray

  Each in the other melting. Much mine eye

    Delights to linger on thee; for the day,

  Changeful and many-weather'd, seem'd to smile

  Flashing brief splendor thro' its clouds awhile,

    That deepen'd dark anon and fell in rain:

  But pleasant is it now to pause, and view

  Thy various tints of frail and watery hue,

    And think the storm shall not return again.

  Such is the smile that Piety bestows

    On the good man's pale cheek, when he in peace

  Departing gently from a world of woes,

    Anticipates the realm where sorrows cease.