ELEGIAC SONNETS.
5
SONNET V.
TO THE SOUTH DOWNS.
AH! hills belov'd!where once a happy child,
Your beechen shades, 'your turf, your flowers among,'
I wove your blue-bells into garlands wild,
And woke your echoes with my artless song.
Ah! hills belov'd!your turf, your flowers remain;
But can they peace to this sad breast restore;
For one poor moment sooth the sense of pain,
And teach a breaking heart to throb no more?
And you, Aruna!in the vale below,
As to the sea your limpid waves you bear,
Can you one kind Lethean cup bestow,
To drink a long oblivion to my care?
Ah! no!when all, e'en Hope's last ray is gone,
There's no oblivionbut in death alone!
