Sonnet XXXV

NYMPH of the rock! whose dauntless spirit bravesThe beating storm, and bitter winds that howlRound thy cold breast; and hear'st the bursting wavesAnd the deep thunder with unshaken soul;Oh come!—and show how vain the cares that pressOn my weak bosom—and how little worthIs the false fleeting meteor, Happiness,That still misleads the wanderers of the earth!Strengthen'd by thee, this heart shall cease to meltO'er ills that poor Humanity must bear;Nor friends estranged, or ties dissolved be feltTo leave regret, and fruitless anguish there:And when at length it heaves its latest sigh,Thou and mild Hope shall teach me how to die!