Anna Seward

Autumn Leaves

Behold that tree in autumn's dim decay,
Stripped by the frequent chill and eddying wind;
Where yet some yellow lonely leaves we find
Lingering and trembling on the naked spray,
Twenty, perchance, for millions whirled away!
Emblem--alas too just!--of human kind:
Vain man expects longevity, designed
For few indeed; and their protracted day--

What is it worth that wisdom does not scorn?
The blasts of sickness, care, and grief appal,
That laid the friends in dust, whose natal morn
Rose near their own!--and solemn is the call;
Yet, like those weak, deserted leaves forlorn,
Shivering they cling to life and fear to fall.

Written in the Blank Page of the Sorrows of Werther

O thou, who turnest this impassioned leaf,
Where Anguish claims the sympathetic grief,
If no relentless prejudice can bind
In stagnant frost the mercy of thy mind;
If thou shalt guess how hard to inflict the smart
Of icy absence on the glowing heart,
When all that charm'd the sense, th' affection won,
Dwells in that form, which prudence bids us shun;
That present, soothes each rankling woe to rest,
Departed, desolates the languid breast,
Then thou'lt lament, amidst thy virtuous blame,
The wretched victim of a baneful flame,
Where ill-starr'd Love its deadliest lightning shed
On the pale Suicide's devoted head,
And woes, that would no holier thought allow,
Threw ghastly shadows on the bleeding brow.--
Still, as thou weep'st their unresisted powers,
The virtues of the lost-one's happier hours
Shall o'er his fatal errors gently rise,
Live in thy heart, and consecrate thy sighs!
And for the soft compassion thou hast shown
For woes and frailties, to thy soul unknown,
For generous sympathy, which shines confest,
Eternal inmate of the noble breast,
Ne'er may embosom'd grief thine eye-lids dim,--
O! live to love, but not to mourn, like him!

(1792)

Elegy

Written at the Sea-side, and Addressed to Miss Honora Sneyd

I write, Honora, on the sparkling sand!—
The envious waves forbid the trace to stay:
Honora's name again adorns the strand!
Again the waters bear their prize away!

So Nature wrote her charms upon thy face,
The cheek's light bloom, the lip's envermeil'd dye,
And every gay, and every witching grace,
That Youth's warm hours, and Beauty's stores supply.

But Time's stern tide, with cold Oblivion's wave,
Shall soon dissolve each fair, each fading charm;
E'en Nature's self, so powerful, cannot save
Her own rich gifts from this o'erwhelming harm.

Love and the Muse can boast superior power,
Indelible the letters they shall frame;
They yield to no inevitable hour,
But will on lasting tablets write thy name.

On a Lock of Miss Sarah Seward's Hair, Who Died in Her Twentieth Year

My angel sister, though thy lovely form
Perished in youth's gay morning, yet is mine
This precious ringlet!--still the soft hairs shine,
Still glow the nut-brown tints, all bright and warm
With sunny gleam!--Alas! each kindred charm
Vanished long since; deep in the silent shrine
Withered to shapeless dust!--and of their grace
Memory alone retains the faithful trace.--

Dear lock! had thy sweet owner lived, ere now
Time on her brow had faded thee!--My care
Screened from the sun and dew thy golden glow;
And thus her early beauty dost thou wear,
Thou all of that fair frame my love could save
From the resistless ravage of the grave!

To the Right Honourable Lady Eleanor Butler

With the Same Present

Thou, who with firm, free step, as life arose,
Led thy loved friend where sacred Deva flows,
On Wisdom's cloudless sun with thee to gaze,
And build your eyrie on that rocky maze;
Ah, ELEANORA! wilt thou gently deign
To bid these nets the tribute lines contain,
When Virtue, Genius, Rank, and Wealth, combine,
To pay ow'd homage at so pure a shrine?
And O! when kindling with the lovely theme,
The blest reality of Hope's fond dream,
Friendship, that bliss unshar'd disdains to know,
Nor sees, nor feels one unpartaken woe;
When for such worth, in each exalted mind,
Resolv'd as man, and more than woman kind,
Their warm admirers ask a length of years,
Unchill'd by terror, and unstain'd by tears,
Then may the fervent benedictions lie!
And long, long hence meet ELEANORA'S eye,
While with her ZARA'S it shall frequent rove
The treasur'd records of esteem, and love!

fromLlangollen Vale
inscribed to the Right Honourable Lady Eleanor Butler and Miss Ponsonby

(The Valle Crucis is a ruined medieval monastery in area.)

lines 84-234

Now with a vestal lustre glows the Vale,
Thine, sacred Friendship, permanent as pure;
In vain the stern authorities assail,
In vain persuasion spreads her silken lure,
High-born, and high-endow'd, the peerless twain,
Pant for coy Nature's charms 'mid silent dale, and plain.

Thro' ELEANORA, and her ZARA s mind,
Early tho' genius, taste, and fancy flow'd,
Tho' all the graceful arts their powers combin'd,
And her last polish brilliant life bestow'd,
The lavish promiser, in youth's soft morn,
Pride, pomp, and love, her friends, the sweet enthusiasts scorn.

Then rose the fairy palace of the Vale,
Then bloom'd around it the Arcadian bowers;
Screen'd from the storms of Winter, cold and pale,
Screen'd from the fervours of the sultry hours,
Circling the lawny crescent, soon they rose,
To letter'd ease devote, and Friendship's blest repose.

Smiling they rose beneath the plastic hand
Of energy, and taste; - nor only they,
Obedient Science hears the mild command,
Brings every gift that speeds the tardy day,
Whate'er the pencil sheds in vivid hues,
Th' historic tome reveals, or sings the raptured Muse.

How sweet to enter, at the twilight grey,
The dear, minute Lyceum of the dome,
When, thro' the colour'd crystal, glares the ray,
Sanguine and solemn 'mid the gathering gloom,
While glow-worm lamps diffuse a pale, green light,
Such as in mossy lanes illume the starless night.

Then the coy scene, by deep'ning veils o'erdrawn,
In shadowy elegance seems lovelier still;
Tall shrubs, that skirt the semi-lunar lawn,
Dark woods, that curtain the opposing hill
While o'er their brows the bare cliff faintly gleams,
And, from its paly edge, the evening-diamond streams.

What strains Aeolian thrill the dusk expanse,
As rising gales with gentle murmurs play,
Wake the loud chords, or every sense intrance
While in subsiding winds, they sink away!
Like distant choirs, 'when pealing organs blow,'
And melting voices blend, majestically slow.

'But ah! what hand can touch the strings so fine,
'Who up the lofty diapason roll
'Such sweet, such sad, such solemn airs divine
'Then let them down again into the soul!'
The prouder sex as soon, with virtue calm,
Might win from this bright pair pure Friendship's spotless palm.

What boasts tradition, what th'historic theme,
Stands it in all their chronicles confest
Where the soul's glory shines with clearer beam,
Than in our sea-zon'd bulwark of the west,
When, in this Cambrian Valley, Virtue shows
Where, in her own soft sex, its steadiest lustre glows?

Say, ivied Valle Crucis, time-decay'd,
Dim on the brink of Deva's wandering floods,
Your riv'd arch glimmering thro' the tangled glade,
Your grey hills towering o'er your night of woods,
Deep in the Vale's recesses as you stand,
And, desolately great, the rising sigh command,

Say, lonely, ruin'd pile, when former years
Saw your pale train at midnight altars bow;
Saw Superstition frown upon the tears
That mourn'd the rash irrevocable vow,
Wore one young lip gay ELEANORA'S smile?
Did ZARA'S look serene one tedious hour beguile?

For your sad sons, nor Science wak'd her powers;
Nor e'er did Art her lively spells display;
But the grim idol vainly lash'd the hours
That dragg'd the mute, and melandholy day;
Dropt her dark cowl on each devoted head,
That o'er the breathing corse a pall eternal spread.

This gentle pair no glooms of thought infest,
Nor Bigotry, nor Envy's sullen gleam
Sh6 d withering influence on the effort blest
Which most should win the other's dear esteem,
By added knowledge by endowment high,
By Charity's warm boon, and Pity's soothing sigh.

Then how should Summer-day or Winter-night
Seem long to them who thus can wing their hours!
O' e'er may pain, or sorrow's cruel blight,
Breathe the dark mildew thro' these lovely bowers,
But lengthen'd life subside in soft decay,
Illumed by rising Hope, and Faith's pervading ray.

May one kind ice-bolt, from the mortal stores,
Arrest each vital current as it flows,
That no sad course of desolated hours
Here vainly nurse the unsubsiding woes!
While all who honour Virtue, gently mourn
LLANGOLLEN's vanish'd Pair, and wreath their sacred Urn.

To Mr. Henry Cary, on the Publication of His Sonnets

Praised be the poet who the sonnet's claim,
Severest of the orders that belong
Distinct and separate to the Delphic song,
Shall venerate, nor its appropriate name
Lawless assume. Peculiar is its frame
From him derived who shunned the city throng
And warbled sweet thy rocks and streams among,
Lonely Valclusa!--
                             and that heir of fame,
Our greater Milton, hath by many a lay
Formed on that arduous model, fully shown
The English verse may happily display
Those strict energic measures, which alone
Deserve the name of sonnet, and convey
A grandeur, grace, and spirit all their own.

Sonnet XII

Chlll'd by unkind HONORA's alter'd eye,
"Why droops my heart with pining woe forlorn,"
Thankless for much of good?—what thousands, born
To ceaseless toll beneath this wintry sky,
Or to brave deathful oceans surging high,
Or fell Disease's fever'd rage to mourn,
How blest to them would seem my destiny!
How dear the comforts my rash sorrows scorn!—
Affection is repaid by causeless hate!
A plighted love is changed to cold disdain!
Yet suffer not thy wrongs to shroud thy fate,
But turn, my soul, to blessings which remain;
And let this truth the wise resolve create,
The Heart estranged no anguish can regain.

Sonnet XIII

Thou child of Night and Silence, balmy Sleep,
Shed thy soft poppies on my aching brow!
And charm to rest the thoughts of whence, or how
Vanish'd that prlz'd Affection, wont to keep
Each grief of mine from rankling into woe.
Then stern Misfortune from her bended bow
Loos'd the dire strings;—and Care, and anxious Dread
From my cheer'd heart, on sullen pinion fled.
But now, the spell dissolv'd, th' enchantress gone,
Ceaseless those cruel fiends infest my day,
And sunny hours but light them to their prey.
Then welcome midnight shades, when th wish'd boon
May in oblivious dews my eye-lids steep,
Thou child of Night and Silence, balmy Sleep!

SONNET XIX

Farewell, false Friend! --our scenes of kindness close!
To cordial looks, to sunny smiles farewell!
To sweet consolings, that can grief expel,
And every joy soft sympathy bestows!
For alter'd looks, where truth no longer glows,
Thou hast prepared my heart;—and it was well
To bid thy pen th' unlook'd—for story tell,
Falsehood avow'd, that shame, nor sorrow knows.
O! when we meet,—(to meet we're destin'd, try
To avoid it as thou may'st) on either brow,
Nor in the stealing consciousness of eye,
Be seen the slightest trace of what, or how
We once were to each other;—nor one sigh
Flatter with weak regret a broken vow!

Sonnet XXXII

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 used my heart to cheer,
Wak'd by the grateful sense of many a year
When rose thy youth, by Friendship's pleasing toils
Cultured; - 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 shared together. They are flown!
Yet long must I lament thy hapless doom,
Thy lavish'd life and early hasten'd tomb.