Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.

IV. A Stormy November Evening, Gradually Clearing up in a Mountainous Country

Anna Seward (1747–1809)

CEASED is the rain, but heavy drops yet fall

From the drenched roof; yet murmurs the sunk wind

Round the dim hills; can yet a passage find

Whistling through yon cleft rock, and ruined wall.

Loud roar the angry torrents, and appall,

Though distant. A few stars, emerging kind,

With green rays tremble through their misty shrouds;

And the moon gleams between the sailing clouds

On half the darkened hill. Now blasts remove

The shadowing clouds, and on the mountain’s brow,

Full-orbed she shines. Half sunk within its cove

Heaves the lone boat, with gulphing sound:—and lo!

Bright rolls the settling lake, and brimming rove

The vale’s blue rills, and glitter as they flow!