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Poem by Anna Seward


Sonnet 25. Fortunate Vale! exulting Hill! dear Plain!


       PETRARCH to VAUCLUSE.

Fortunate Vale! exulting Hill! dear Plain!
    Where morn, and eve, my soul's fair Idol stray'd,
    While all your winds, that murmur'd thro' the glade,
    Stole her sweet breath; yet, yet your paths retain
Prints of her step, by fount, whose floods remain
    In depth unfathom'd; 'mid the rocks, that shade,
    With cavern'd arch, their sleep.—Ye streams, that play'd
    Around her limbs in Summer's ardent reign,
The soft resplendence of those azure eyes
    Ting'd ye with living light.—The envied claim
    These blest distinctions give, my lyre, my sighs,
My songs record; and, from their Poet's flame,
    Bid this wild Vale, its Rocks, and Streams arise,
    Associates still of their bright Mistress' fame.

This Sonnet is not a Translation or Paraphrase, but is written in the Character of Petrarch, and in imitation of his manner.



Anna Seward


Anna Seward's other poems:
  1. Sonnet 87. Round Cleon's brow the Delphic laurels twine
  2. Sonnet 48. Now young-ey'd Spring, on gentle breezes borne
  3. Sonnet 13. Thou child of Night, and Silence, balmy Sleep
  4. Sonnet 53. The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past
  5. Sonnet 5. Ah, thankless! canst thou envy him who gains


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