Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 53. The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past

     WRITTEN IN THE SPRING 1785 
     ON THE DEATH OF THE POET LAUREAT.

The knell of Whitehead tolls!—his cares are past,
    The hapless tribute of his purchas'd lays,
    His servile, his Egyptian tasks of praise!—
    If not sublime his strains, Fame justly plac'd
Their power above their work.—Now, with wide gaze
Of much indignant wonder, she surveys
    To the life-labouring oar assiduous haste
    A glowing Bard, by every Muse embrac'd.—
O, Warton! chosen Priest of Phœbus' choir!
    Shall thy rapt song be venal? hymn the Throne,
    Whether its edicts just applause inspire,
Or Patriot Virtue view them with a frown?
    What needs for this the golden-stringed Lyre,
    The snowy Tunic, and the Sun-bright Zone[1]!

1: Ensigns of Apollo's Priesthood. 

1. Sonnet 58. Not the slow Hearse, where nod the sable plumes
2. Sonnet 25. Fortunate Vale! exulting Hill! dear Plain!
3. Sonnet 52. Long has the pall of Midnight quench'd the scene
4. Sonnet 2. The Future, and its gifts, alone we prize
5. Sonnet 33. Last night her Form the hours of slumber bless'd

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