Sonnet LXXXVII. To A Young Lady, Addressed By A Gentleman Celebrated For His Poetic Talents.

Round Cleon's brow the Delphic laurels twine,
    And lo! the laurel decks Amanda's breast!
    Charm'd shall he mark its glossy branches shine
    On that contrasting snow; shall see express'd
Love's better omens, in the green hues dress'd
    Of this selected foliage. - Nymph, 't is thine
    The warning story on its leaves to find,
    Proud Daphne's fate, imprison'd in its rind,
And with its umbrage veil'd, great Phoebus' power
    Scorning, and bent, with feet of wind, to foil
    His swift pursuit, till on Thessalian shore
Shot into boughs, and rooted to the soil. -
    Thus warn'd, fair Maid, Apollo's ire to shun,
    Soon may his Spray's and VOTARY's lot be one.

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 LXIX. To A Young Lady, Purposing To Marry A Man Of Immoral Character In The Hope Of His Reformation.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

Sonnet XCIX. On The Violent Thunder Storms.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

Sonnet LXVIII. On The Posthumous Fame Of Doctor Johnson.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

Sonnet XLIV.

Anna Seward, Simple Poetry

English

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Sonnet LXV. To The Same.

Marcellus, since the ardors of my strain
    To thy young eyes and kindling fancy, gleam
    With somewhat of the vivid hues, that stream
    From Poesy's bright orb, each envious stain
Shed by dull Critics, venal, vex'd and vain,
    Seems recompens'd at full; - and so wou'd seem
    Did not maturer Sons of Phoebus deem
    My verse Aonian. - Thou, in time, shalt gain,
Like them, amid the letter'd World, that sway
    Which makes encomium fame; - so thou adorn,
    Extend, refine and dignify thy lay,
And Indolence, and Syren Pleasure scorn;
    Then, at high noon, thy Genius shall display
    The splendors promis'd in its shining morn.

Anna Seward

Sonnet LXI. To Mr. Henry Cary[1], On Reading His Sonnets Written At Sixteen.

Disciple of the bright Aonian Maid
    In thy life's blossom, a resistless spell
    Amid the wild wood, and irriguous dell,
    O'er thymy hill, and thro' illumin'd glade,
Led thee, for her thy votive wreaths to braid,
    Where flaunts the musk-rose, and the azure bell
    Nods o'er loquacious brook, or silent well. -
    Thus woo'd her inspirations, their rapt aid
Liberal she gave; nor only thro' thy strain
    Breath'd their pure spirit, while her charms beguil'd
    The languid hours of Sorrow, and of Pain,
But when Youth's tide ran high, and tempting smil'd
    Circean Pleasure, rescuing did she stand,
    Broke the Enchantress' cup and snapt her wand.

1: Then of Sutton Coldfield.

Anna Seward

Sonnet XLVIII.

Now young-ey'd Spring, on gentle breezes borne,
    'Mid the deep woodlands, hills, and vales, and bowers,
    Unfolds her leaves, her blossoms, and her flowers,
    Pouring their soft luxuriance on the morn.
O! how unlike the wither'd, wan, forlorn,
    And limping Winter, that o'er russet moors,
    Grey ridgy fields, and ice-incrusted shores,
    Strays! - and commands his rising Winds to mourn.
Protracted Life, thou art ordain'd to wear
    A form like his; and, shou'd thy gifts be mine,
    I tremble lest a kindred influence drear
Steal on my mind; - but pious Hope benign,
    The Soul's bright day-spring, shall avert the fear,
    And gild Existence in her dim decline.

Anna Seward

Sonnet: To A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown

Fresh morning gusts have blown away all fear
From my glad bosom, now from gloominess
I mount for ever not an atom less
Than the proud laurel shall content my bier.
No! by the eternal stars! or why sit here
In the Sun's eye, and 'gainst my temples press
Apollo's very leaves, woven to bless
By thy white fingers and thy spirit clear.
Lo! who dares say, "Do this"? Who dares call down
My will from its high purpose? Who say,"Stand,"
Or, "Go"? This mighty moment I would frown
On abject Caesars not the stoutest band
Of mailed heroes should tear off my crown:
Yet would I kneel and kiss thy gentle hand!

John Keats

Sonnet LVI. To A Timid Young Lady, Distressed By The Attentions Of An Amiable, And Accepted Lover.

What bashful wildness in those crystal eyes,
    Fair Zillia! - Ah! more dear to LOVE the gaze
    That dwells upon its object, than the rays
    Of that vague glance, quick, as in summer skies
The lightning's lambent flash, when neither rise
    Thunder, nor storm. - I mark, while transport plays
    Warm in thy Lover's eye, what dread betrays
    Thy throbbing heart: - yet why from his soft sighs
Fleet'st thou so swift away? - like the young Hind[1],
    That bending stands the fountain's brim beside,
    When, with a sudden gust, the western wind
Rustles among the boughs that shade the tide:
    See, from the stream, innoxious and benign,
    Starting she bounds, with terror vain as thine!

1: "Vitas hinnuleo me similis Chloe." HORACE.

Anna Seward

Sonnet LXIX. To A Young Lady, Purposing To Marry A Man Of Immoral Character In The Hope Of His Reformation.

Time, and thy charms, thou fanciest will redeem
    Yon aweless Libertine from rooted vice.
    Misleading thought! has he not paid the price,
    His taste for virtue? - Ah, the sensual stream
Has flow'd too long. - What charms can so entice,
    What frequent guilt so pall, as not to shame
    The rash belief, presumptuous and unwise,
    That crimes habitual will forsake the Frame? -
[1]Thus, on the river's bank, in fabled lore,
    The Rustic stands; sees the stream swiftly go,
    And thinks he soon shall find the gulph below
A channel dry, which he may safe pass o'er. -
    Vain hope! - it flows - and flows - and yet will flow,
    Volume decreaseless, to the FINAL HOUR.

1:

"Rusticus exspectat dum defluit amnis: at ille Labitur, et labetur in omne...

Anna Seward