Elegiac sonnets. Volume 1 of 2  contents   |   previous   |   next SONNET IX. BLEST is yon shepherd, on the turf reclin'd,          Who on the varied clouds which float above Lies idly gazing while his vacant mind          Pours out some tale antique of rural love!          Ah! he has never felt the pangs that move          Th' indignant spirit, when with selfish pride,          Friends, on whose faith the trusting heart rely'd,          Unkindly shun th' imploring eye of woe!          The ills they ought to soothe, with taunts deride,          And laugh at tears themselves have forc'd to flow. [Note:] SONNET IX. Line 10. And laugh at tears themselves have forc'd to flow. And hard unkindness' alter'd eye, That mocks the tear it forc'd to flow. Gray. Nor his rude bosom those fine feelings melt,          Children of Sentiment and Knowledge born, Thro' whom each shaft with cruel force is felt,          Empoison'd by deceit or bar'd with scorn.  contents   |   previous   |   next		HOME INTRODUCTION