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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=355453" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnet LXXI.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=355453" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Written at Weymouth in winter. <br>THE chill waves whiten in the sharp North-east;<br>Cold, cold the night-blast comes, with sullen sound,<br>And black and gloomy, like my cheerless breast:<br>Frowns the dark pier and lonely sea-view round.<br>Yet a few months--and on the peopled strand<br>Pleasure shall all her varied forms display;<br>Nymphs lightly tread the bright reflecting sand,<br>And proud sails whiten all the summer bay:<br>Then, from these winds that whistle keen and bleak,<br>Music's delightful melodies shall float<br>O'er the blue waters; but 'tis mine to seek<br>Rather, some unfrequented shade, remote<br>From sights and sounds of gaiety--I mourn<br>All that gave me delight--Ah! never to return</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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