Charlotte Smith

(4 May 1749 – 28 October 1806 / London)

Charlotte Smith Poems

41. Sonnet Liii. 4/15/2010
42. Sonnet Vi. To Hope 4/15/2010
43. Sonnet Xlix. From The Novel Of Celestina 4/15/2010
44. Sonnet Xxiii. By The Same. To The North Star. 4/15/2010
45. Sonnet Xxxvii. 4/15/2010
46. Verses, On The Death Of The Same Lady 4/15/2010
47. The Truant Dove, From Pilpay 4/15/2010
48. To The Snowdrop 4/15/2010
49. Studies By The Sea 4/15/2010
50. Sonnet Lx. To An Amiable Girl 4/15/2010
51. Sonnet Lxxix. To The Goddess Of Botany 4/15/2010
52. Sonnet Xxvi. To The River Arun 4/15/2010
53. Sonnet Xxxi. 4/15/2010
54. Sonnet Xxix. To Miss C---- 4/15/2010
55. Sonnet Xvii. From The Thirteenth Cantata Of Metastasio 4/15/2010
56. Verses Iv 4/15/2010
57. The Horologe Of The Fields 4/15/2010
58. The Lark’s Nest 4/15/2010
59. Sonnet Xix. To Mr. Haley, 4/15/2010
60. Sonnet Lxxxi. 4/15/2010
61. Sonnet Lxxxii. To The Shade Of Burns 4/15/2010
62. Sonnet Lxxviii. Snowdrops 4/15/2010
63. Sonnet Ix. 4/15/2010
64. Sonnet Xli. To Tranquility 4/15/2010
65. Song Iii 4/15/2010
66. Sonnet Lviii. The Glow-Worm 4/15/2010
67. Sonnet Vii: Sweet Poet Of The Woods 4/15/2010
68. Song Ii 4/15/2010
69. Sonnet Xxi. Supposed To Written By Werter 4/15/2010
70. Song I 4/15/2010
71. Sonnet Xxvii. 4/15/2010
72. Occasional Address 4/15/2010
73. The Origin Of Flattery 4/15/2010
74. Sonnet Xv. From Petrarch 4/15/2010
75. Sonnet Xl. From The Same. 4/15/2010
76. Sonnet Xxx. To The River Arun 4/15/2010
77. Sonnet V. To The South Downs 4/15/2010
78. The Female Exile 4/15/2010
79. Sonnet Xxxix. To Night. From The Same. 4/15/2010
80. The First Swallow 4/15/2010

Comments about Charlotte Smith

  • Peter Bolton (2/25/2014 2:09:00 PM)

    Maybe one was also always writing verse as a child and sneakily submitting some of it to magazines but not many of us were forcibly married at 15. I also love her novels.

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Best Poem of Charlotte Smith

Sonnet Lxvi: The Night-Flood Rakes

The night-flood rakes upon the stony shore;
Along the rugged cliffs and chalky caves
Mourns the hoarse Ocean, seeming to deplore
All that are buried in his restless waves—
Mined by corrosive tides, the hollow rock
Falls prone, and rushing from its turfy height,
Shakes the broad beach with long-resounding shock,
Loud thundering on the ear of sullen Night;
Above the desolate and stormy deep,
Gleams the wan Moon, by floating mist opprest;
Yet here while youth, and health, and labour sleep,
Alone I wander—Calm untroubled rest,
"Nature's soft nurse," deserts the...

Read the full of Sonnet Lxvi: The Night-Flood Rakes

Sonnet I


THE partial Muse, has from my earliest hours,
Smil'd on the rugged path I'm doom'd to tread,
And still with sportive hand has snatch'd wild flowers,
To weave fantastic garlands for my head:
But far, far happier is the lot of those

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