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Charlotte Smith - Sonnet LII.
Work rating: Low

FROM THE NOVEL OF CELESTINA. 
THE PILGRIM. 
FAULTERING and sad the unhappy pilgrim roves,
Who, on the eve of bleak December`s night,
Divided far from all he fondly loves,
Journeys alone, along the giddy height
Of these steep cliffs, and as the sun`s last ray
Fades in the West, sees, from the rocky verge,
Dark tempests scowling o`er the shortened day,
And hears, with ear appall`d, the impetuous surge
Beneath him thunder!--So, with heart oppress`d,
Alone, reluctant, desolate, and slow,
By Friendship`s cheering radiance now unblest,
Along life`s rudest path I seem to go;
Nor see where yet the anxious heart may rest,
That, trembling at the past--recoils from future woe.
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