Charlotte Turner Smith was an English Romantic poet and novelist. She initiated a revival of the English sonnet, helped establish the conventions of Gothic fiction, and wrote political novels of sensibility.
Smith was born into a wealthy family and received a typical education for a woman during the late 18th century. However, her father's reckless spending forced her to marry early. In a marriage that she later described as prostitution, she was given by her father to the violent and profligate Benjamin Smith. Their marriage was deeply unhappy, although they had twelve children together. Charlotte joined Benjamin in debtor's prison, where she wrote her first book of poetry, ... more »
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Charlotte Smith Poems
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—
Sonnet III: To a Nightingale
Poor melancholy bird---that all night long Tell'st to the Moon, thy tale of tender woe; From what sad cause can such sweet sorrow flow, And whence this mournful melody of song?
ON thy stupendous summit, rock sublime ! That o'er the channel rear'd, half way at sea The mariner at early morning hails,
Sonnet LXX: On Being Cautioned Against W...
Is there a solitary wretch who hies To the tall cliff, with starting pace or slow, And, measuring, views with wild and hollow eyes Its distance from the waves that chide below;
The Emigrants: Book II
Scene, on an Eminence on one of those Downs, which afford to the South a view of the Sea; to the North of the Weald of Sussex. Time, an Afternoon in April, 1793. Long wintry months are past; the Moon that now
Sonnet XLIV: Press'd by the Moon
Press'd by the Moon, mute arbitress of tides, While the loud equinox its power combines, The sea no more its swelling surge confines, But o'er the shrinking land sublimely rides.
The Emigrants: Book I
Scene, on the Cliffs to the Eastward of the Town of Brighthelmstone in Sussex. Time, a Morning in November, 1792.
Ode To Death
FRIEND of the wretched! wherefore should the eye Of blank Despair, whence tears have ceased to flow,
Sonnet LXIII: The Gossamer
O'er faded heath-flowers spun, or thorny furze, The filmy Gossamer is lightly spread; Waving in every sighing air that stirs, As Fairy fingers had entwined the thread:
Love And Folly
LOVE, who now deals to human hearts, Such ill thrown, yet resistless darts, That hapless mortals can't withstand them,
Sonnet LXVII: On Passing over a Dreary T...
Swift fleet the billowy clouds along the sky, Earth seems to shudder at the storm aghast; While only beings as forlorn as I, Court the chill horrors of the howling blast.
Sonnet XLIII: The Unhappy Exile
The unhappy exile, whom his fates confine To the bleak coast of some unfriendly isle, Cold, barren, desart, where no harvests smile, But thirst and hunger on the rocks repine;
Sonnet LXXXIII. The Sea View
THE upland shepherd, as reclined he lies On the soft turf that clothes the mountain brow, Marks the bright sea-line mingling with the skies;
Quotationsmore quotations »
''I knew I had to do it. It was an order from the coach.''Charlotte Smith (b. 1974), U.S. college basketball player. As quoted in the New York Times, p. C7 (April 3, 1994). On shooting a three-point baske...
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Edgar Allan Poe
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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...