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Sonnet 22. You, whose dull spirits feel not the fine glow SUBJECT CONTINUED. You, whose dull spirits feel not the fine glow Enthusiasm breathes, no more of light Perceive ye in rapt Poesy, tho' bright In Fancy's richest colouring, than can flow From jewel'd treasures in the central night Of their deep caves.—You have no Sun to show Their inborn radiance pure.—Go, Snarlers, go; Nor your defects of feeling, and of sight, To charge upon the Poet thus presume, Ye lightless minds, whate'er of title proud, Scholar, or Sage, or Critic, ye assume, Arraigning his high claims with censure loud, Or sickly scorn; yours, yours is all the cloud, Gems cannot sparkle in the midnight Gloom. Anna Seward's other poems:
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