Anna Seward (Анна Сьюард)

Sonnet 30. That song again!—its sounds my bosom thrill

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!

1. Sonnet 75. He found her not;—yet much the Poet found
2. Sonnet 90. My hour is not yet come!—these burning eyes
3. Sonnet 20. Ah! might I range each hallow'd bower and glade
4. Sonnet 85. March, tho' the Hours of promise with bright ray
5. Sonnet 78. Sophia tempts me to her social walls

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