Anna Seward (Анна Сьюард)

Sonnet 43. My memory, long accustom'd to receive

   TO MAY, IN THE YEAR 1783.

My memory, long accustom'd to receive
    In deep-engraven lines, each varying trait
    Past Times and Seasons wore, can find no date
    Thro' many years, O! May, when thou hadst leave,
As now, of the great Sun, serene to weave
    Thy fragrant chaplets; in poetic state
    To call the jocund Hours on thee to wait,
    Bringing each day, at morn, at noon, at eve,
His mild illuminations.—Nymph, no more
    Is thine to mourn beneath the scanty shade
    Of half-blown foliage, shivering to deplore
Thy garlands immature, thy rites unpaid;
    Meads dropt with [1]gold again to thee belong,
    Soft gales, luxuriant bowers, and wood-land song.

1: Kingcups. 

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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