Poems (Temple)/Sonnet 1

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Sonnets.

SONNET I. To the EVENING GALE. 
I love thee, wanton Wind! I love thy wingTo gently winnow my recumbent form,As on the moss-grown steep my length I fling,And listen to the billows mutt'ring storm.
Then do I think me of those lovesome hoursWhen Hope had first unfurl'd her golden sail,When 'midst the shade of world-secluded bow'rs,I felt thy nectar'd breath,—thou balmy Gale.
Yes! it was sweet, 'twas "passing" sweet, to hearThe wand'ring cadence of thy trembling tongue, ​For ah! a voice, to sad remembrance dear,Oft its low sweetness on thy pinion hung.Pour then, oh breeze! thy soft and charmful trill,And I will think I catch its sweetness still.
1801.
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