Sonnet Written in the church-Yard at Middleton 
Pressed by the moonŁ¬mute arbitress of tidesŁ¬
While the loud equinox its power combinesŁ¬
The sea no more the swelling surge confinesŁ¬
But o'er the shrinking land sublimely rides.
The wild blastŁ¬rising from the western caveŁ¬
Drives the huge billows from their heaving bed;
Tears from their grassy tomb the village dead,
And breaks the silent sabbath of the graveŁˇ
With shells and seaŁ­weed mingled, on the shoreŁ¬
LoŁˇtheir bones whiten in the frequent waveŁ¬
But vain to them the winds and waters raveŁ»
They hear the warring elements no more:
While I am doomedŁ­by life's long storm oppressed,
To gaze with envy on their gloomy rest.


 
