Sonnet LXXXVIII. The Prospect A Flooded Vale.

The three following Sonnets are written in the character of Werter; the sentiments and images chiefly, but not intirely taken from one of his letters.      Up this bleak Hill, in wintry Night's dread hour,         With mind congenial to the scene, I come!         To see my Valley in the lunar gloom,         To see it whelm'd. - Amid the cloudy lour      Gleams the cold Moon; - and shows the ruthless power         Of yon swoln Floods, that white with turbid foam         Roll o'er the fields; - and, billowy as they roam,         Against the bushes beat! - A Vale no more,      A troubled Sea, toss'd by the furious Wind! -         Alas! the wild and angry Waves efface         Pathway, and hedge, and bank, and stile! - I find      But one wide waste of waters! - In controul         Thus dire, to tides of Misery and Disgrace         Love opes the flood-gates of my struggling Soul.