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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=355443" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet LXI</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=355443" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Supposed to have been written in America. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=355443" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">ILL-omen'd bird! whose cries portentous float<br>O'er yon savannah with the mournful wind;<br>While, as the Indian hears your piercing note,<br>Dark dread of future evil fills his mind;<br>Wherefore with early lamentation break<br>The dear delusive visions of repose?<br>Why from so short felicity awake<br>My wounded senses to substantial woes?<br>O'er my sick soul thus rous'd from transient rest,<br>Pale Superstition sheds her influence drear,<br>And to my shuddering fancy would suggest<br>Thou com'st to speak of ev'ry woe I fear,<br>Ah! Reason little o'er the soul prevails,<br>When, from ideal ill, the enfeebled spirit fails!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Charlotte+Smith">Charlotte Smith</a></strong></div>

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