Sonnet II. (Translated From Milton)

As on a hill-top rude, when closing day
  Imbrowns the scene, some past'ral maiden fair
  Waters a lovely foreign plant with care,
  That scarcely can its tender bud display
Borne from its native genial airs away,
  So, on my tongue these accents new and rare
  Are flow'rs exotic, which Love waters there,
  While thus, o sweetly scornful! I essay
Thy praise in verse to British ears unknown,
  And Thames exchange for Arno's fair domain;
  So Love has will'd, and oftimes Love has shown
That what He wills he never wills in vain.
  Oh that this hard and steril breast might be
  To Him who plants from heav'n, a soil as free.