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letra de sonnet xliv - press'd by the moon - charlotte smith - ghizela rowe

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press’d by the moon, mute arbitress of tides
while the loud equinox its pow’r combines
the sea no more its swelling surge confines
but o’er the shrinking land sublimely rides
the wild blasts, 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 sh-lls and seaweed minglеd, on the shore
lo! their bonеs 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

- ghizela rowe

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