CreationEarth Nature Photos
Submit Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

Sonnet XLIV: Pressd by the Moon

 Press'd by the Moon, mute arbitress of tides,
While the loud equinox its power combines,
The sea no more its swelling surge confines,
But o'er the shrinking land sublimely rides.
The wild blast, rising from the Western cave, Drives the huge billows from their heaving bed; Tears from their grassy tombs the village dead, And breaks the silent sabbath of the grave! With shells and sea-weed mingled, on the shore Lo! their bones whiten in the frequent wave; But vain to them the winds and waters rave; They hear the warring elements no more: While I am doom'd—by life's long storm opprest, To gaze with envy on their gloomy rest.

by Charlotte Turner Smith
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Sonnet XLIV: Pressd by the MoonEmail Poem |

Top Charlotte Turner Smith Poems

Analysis and Comments on Sonnet XLIV: Pressd by the Moon

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Sonnet XLIV: Pressd by the Moon here.

Commenting has been disabled for now.