Charlotte Smith

(4 May 1749 – 28 October 1806 / London)

Charlotte Smith Poems

81. Sonnet Xxxix. To Night. From The Same. 4/15/2010
82. The First Swallow 4/15/2010
83. Fragment 4/15/2010
84. The Swallow 4/15/2010
85. Sonnet Xxxv. To Fortitude 4/15/2010
86. Sonnet Viii. To Spring 4/15/2010
87. Saint Monica 4/15/2010
88. Elegy 4/15/2010
89. Sonnet Xi. To Sleep 4/15/2010
90. Hope 4/15/2010
91. Apostrophe 4/15/2010
92. April 4/15/2010
93. The Moon 4/15/2010
94. Flora 4/15/2010
95. The Dead Beggar 4/15/2010
96. Sonnet Lxxvii. To The Insect Of The Gossamer 4/15/2010
97. A Walk In The Shrubbery 4/15/2010
98. Sonnet Iv. To The Moon 4/15/2010
99. Sonnet Xxxii. To Melancholy 4/15/2010
100. Sonnet Lxxxiii. The Sea View 4/15/2010
101. Inscription 4/15/2010
102. Ode To Despair 4/15/2010
103. Sonnet Xxxiv: Charm'D By Thy Suffrage 1/3/2003
104. Evening 4/15/2010
105. Ode To The Poppy 4/15/2010
106. Sonnet Ii 4/15/2010
107. Sonnet Xxii. By The Same. To Solitude. 4/15/2010
108. Huge Vapours Brood Above The Clifted Shore 1/3/2003
109. Written Near A Port On A Dark Evening 1/1/2004
110. Sonnet Xlvii: To Fancy 1/3/2003
111. Sonnet Lxvii: On Passing Over A Dreary Tract 1/3/2003
112. Ode To Death 4/15/2010
113. Sonnet I 1/1/2004
114. Sonnet Lxiii: The Gossamer 1/3/2003
115. Sonnet Xlii: Composed During A Walk 1/3/2003
116. Sonnet Xliii: The Unhappy Exile 1/3/2003
117. Love And Folly 4/15/2010
118. On The Aphorism 4/15/2010
119. Sonnet Xliv: Press'D By The Moon 1/3/2003
120. The Emigrants: Book Ii 1/3/2003

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

o



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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