Anna Seward (Анна Сьюард)

Sonnet 27. See wither'd Winter, bending low his head

See wither'd Winter, bending low his head;
    His ragged locks stiff with the hoary dew;
    His eyes, like frozen lakes, of livid hue;
    His train, a sable cloud, with murky red
Streak'd.—Ah! behold his nitrous breathings shed
    Petrific death!—Lean, wailful Birds pursue,
    On as he sweeps o'er the dun lonely moor,
    Amid the battling blast of all the Winds,
That, while their sleet the climbing Sailor blinds,
    Lash the white surges to the sounding shore.
    So com'st thou, Winter, finally to doom
The sinking year; and with thy ice-dropt sprays,
    Cypress and yew, engarland her pale tomb,
    Her vanish'd hopes, and aye-departed days.

1. Sonnet 85. March, tho' the Hours of promise with bright ray
2. Sonnet 78. Sophia tempts me to her social walls
3. Sonnet 52. Long has the pall of Midnight quench'd the scene
4. Sonnet 20. Ah! might I range each hallow'd bower and glade
5. Sonnet 90. My hour is not yet come!—these burning eyes

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