Sonnet LXX. To A Young Lady In Affliction, Who Fancied She Should Never More Be Happy.

Yes, thou shalt smile again! - Time always heals
    In youth, the wounds of Sorrow. - O! survey
    Yon now subsided Deep, thro' Night a prey
    To warring Winds, and to their furious peals
Surging tumultuous! - yet, as in dismay,
    The settling Billows tremble. - Morning steals
    Grey on the rocks; - and soon, to pour the day
    From the streak'd east, the radiant Orb unveils
In all his pride of light. - Thus shall the glow
    Of beauty, health, and hope, by soft degrees
    Spread o'er thy breast; disperse these storms of woe;
Wake, with sweet pleasure's sense, the wish to please,
    Till from those eyes the wonted lustres flow,
    Bright as the Sun on calm'd and crystal Seas.

Anna Seward

Anna Seward was an English Romantic poet often called the 'Swan of Lichfield'. She was known for both her poetry and her extensive letter writing, which provided insight into 18th-century literary life. Seward was a steadfast critic of the neoclassicism that dominated much of the contemporary poetry scene, favoring a Romantic approach that sought to capture emotion and natural beauty. Her works often revolved around themes of love, loss, and nature. She was also a close friend of writers such as Erasmus Darwin and Samuel Johnson.

Anna Seward

Sonnet LXXXI. On A Lock Of Miss Sarah Seward's Hair Who Died In Her Twentieth Year.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

Sonnet XCIII.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

Sonnet LXVIII. On The Posthumous Fame Of Doctor Johnson.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

Sonnet XXV. [1]Petrarch To Vaucluse.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnet XCVIII.

Since my griev'd mind some energy regains,
    Industrious habits can, at times, repress
    The weight of filial woe, the deep distress
    Of life-long separation; yet its pains,
Oft do they throb along these fever'd veins. -
    My rest has lost its balm, the fond caress
    Wont the dear aged forehead to impress
    At midnight, as he slept; - nor now obtains
My uprising the blest news, that cou'd impart
    Joy to the morning, when its dawn had brought
    Some health to that weak Frame, o'er which my heart
With fearful fondness yearn'd, and anxious thought. -
    Time, and the HOPE that robs the mortal Dart
    Of its fell sting, shall cheer me - as they ought.

Anna Seward

Sonnet LXXX.

As lightens the brown Hill to vivid green
    When juvenescent April's showery Sun
    Looks on its side, with golden glance, at Noon;
    So on the gloom of Life's now faded scene
Shines the dear image of those days serene,
    From Memory's consecrated treasures won;
    The days that rose, ere youth, and years were flown,
    Soft as the morn of May; - and well I ween
If they had clouds, in Time's alembic clear
    They vanish'd all, and their gay vision glows
    In brightness unobscur'd; and now they wear
A more than pristine sunniness, which throws
    Those mild reflected lights that soften care,
    Loss of lov'd Friends, and all the train of Woes.

Anna Seward

Sonnet XXXII. Subject Of The Preceding Sonnet Continued.

Behold him now his genuine colours wear,
    That specious False-One, by whose cruel wiles
    I lost thy amity; saw thy dear smiles
    Eclips'd; those smiles, that us'd my heart to cheer,
Wak'd by thy grateful sense of many a year
    When rose thy youth, by Friendship's pleasing toils
    Cultur'd; - but DYING! - O! for ever fade
    The angry fires. - Each thought, that might upbraid
Thy broken faith, which yet my soul deplores,
    Now as eternally is past and gone
    As are the interesting, the happy hours,
Days, years, we shar'd together. They are flown!
    Yet long must I lament thy hapless doom,
    Thy lavish'd life and early-hasten'd tomb.

Anna Seward

Sonnet II.

The Future, and its gifts, alone we prize,
    Few joys the Present brings, and those alloy'd;
    Th' expected fulness leaves an aching void;
    But HOPE stands by, and lifts her sunny eyes
That gild the days to come. - She still relies
    The Phantom HAPPINESS not thus shall glide
    Always from life. - Alas! - yet ill betide
    Austere Experience, when she coldly tries
In distant roses to discern the thorn!
    Ah! is it wise to anticipate our pain?
    Arriv'd, it then is soon enough to mourn.
Nor call the dear Consoler false and vain,
    When yet again, shining through april-tears,
    Those fair enlight'ning eyes beam on advancing Years.

Anna Seward

Sonnet LXXVII.

O! hast thou seen a vernal Morning bright
    Gem every bank and trembling leaf with dews,
    Tinging the green fields with her amber hues,
    Changing the leaden streams to lines of light?
Then seen dull Clouds, that shed untimely night,
    Roll envious on, and every ray suffuse,
    Till the chill'd Scenes their early beauty lose,
    And faint, and colourless, no more invite
The glistening gaze of Joy? - 'Twas emblem just
    Of my youth's sun, on which deep shadows fell,
    Spread from the PALL OF FRIENDS; and Grief's loud gust
Resistless, oft wou'd wasted tears compel:
    Yet let me hope, that on my darken'd days
    Science, and pious Trust, may shed pervading rays.

Anna Seward

Sonnet XXX.

That song again! - its sounds my bosom thrill,
    Breathe of past years, to all their joys allied;
    And, as the notes thro' my sooth'd spirits glide,
    Dear Recollection's choicest sweets distill,
Soft as the Morn's calm dew on yonder hill,
    When slants the Sun upon its grassy side,
    Tinging the brooks that many a mead divide
    With lines of gilded light; and blue, and still,
The distant lake stands gleaming in the vale.
    Sing, yet once more, that well-remember'd strain,
    Which oft made vocal every passing gale
In days long fled, in Pleasure's golden reign,
    The youth of chang'd HONORA! - now it wears
    Her air - her smile - spells of the vanish'd years!

Anna Seward