SONNET
[
59
]
LIX.
Written
during
a
Thunder
Storm
,
September
,
1791
;
in
which
the
Moon
was
perfectly
clear
,
while
the
Tempest
gathered
in
various
directions
near
the
Earth
.
WHAT
awful
pageants
croud
the
evening
sky
!
The
low
horizon
gath'ring
vapours
shroud
,
Sudden
,
from
many
a
deep
embattled
cloud
,
Terrific
thunders
burst
and
light'nings
fly
—
While
in
serenest
azure
,
beaming
high
,
Night's
regent
—
of
her
calm
pavilion
proud
,
Gilds
the
dark
shadows
that
beneath
her
lie
,
Unvex'd
by
all
their
conflicts
fierce
and
loud
—
So
,
in
unsullied
dignity
elate
,
A
spirit
conscious
of
superior
worth
,
In
placid
elevation
firmly
great
,
Scorns
the
vain
cares
that
give
Contention
birth
;
And
blest
with
peace
above
the
shocks
of
Fate
,
Smiles
at
the
tumult
of
the
troubled
earth
.