SONNET [23] XXIII. By the same. To the North Star. TO thy bright beams I turn my swimming eyes, Fair, fav'rite planet! which in happier days Saw my young hopes, ah! faithless hopes! — arise; And on my passion shed propitious rays! Now nightly wandering mid the tempests drear That howl the woods, and rocky steeps among, I love to see thy sudden light appear Thro' the swift clouds, driv'n by the wind along: Or in the turbid water, rude and dark, O'er whose wild stream the gust of Winter raves, Thy trembling light with pleasure still I mark, Gleam in faint radiance on the foaming waves! So o'er my soul short rays of reason fly, Then fade: — and leave me, to despair and die!