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Poem by Anna Seward


Sonnet 55. Loud blew the North thro' April's pallid days


ON THE QUICK TRANSITION FROM WINTER TO SUMMER
               IN THE YEAR 1785.

Loud blew the North thro' April's pallid days,
    Nor grass the field, nor leaves the grove obtains,
    Nor crystal sun-beams, nor the gilded rains,
    That bless the hours of promise, gently raise
Warmth in the blood, without that fiery blaze,
    Which makes it boil along the throbbing veins.
    Albion, displeas'd, her own lov'd Spring surveys
    Passing, with volant step, o'er russet plains;
Sees her to Summer's fierce embraces speed,
    Pale, and unrobed.Faithless! thou well may'st hide
    Close in his sultry breast thy recreant head,
That did'st, neglecting thy distinguish'd Isle,
    In Winter's icy arms so long abide,
    While Britain vainly languish'd for thy smile!



Anna Seward


Anna Seward's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 87. Round Cleon's brow the Delphic laurels twine
  2. Sonnet 56. What bashful wildness in those crystal eyes
  3. Sonnet 45. From Possibility's dim chaos sprung
  4. Sonnet 99. Remorseless Winter! in thy iron reign
  5. Sonnet 80. As lightens the brown Hill to vivid green

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