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Charlotte Smith - Sonnet XXXII. To Melancholy
Work rating: Medium

Written on the banks of the Arun, Oct. 1785. 
WHEN latest Autumn spreads her evening veil,
And the grey mists from these dim waves arise,
I love to listen to the hollow sighs,
Through the half-leafless wood that breathes the gale:
For at such hours the shadowy phantom, pale,
Oft seems to fleet before the poet`s eyes;
Strange sounds are heard, and mournful melodies,
As of night wanderers, who their woes bewail
Here, by his native stream, at such an hour,
Pity`s own Otway I methinks could meet,
And hear his deep sighs swell the sadden`d wind!
O Melancholy!--such thy magic power,
That to the soul these dreams are often sweet,
And sooth the pensive visionary mind!
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