Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 5. Ah, thankless! canst thou envy him who gains

TO A FRIEND,
WHO THINKS SENSIBILITY A MISFORTUNE.

Ah, thankless! canst thou envy him who gains
    The Stoic's cold and indurate repose?
    Thou! with thy lively sense of bliss and woes!—
    From a false balance of life's joys and pains
Thou deem'st him happy.—Plac'd 'mid fair domains,
    Where full the river down the valley flows,
    As wisely might'st thou wish thy home had rose
    On the parch'd surface of unwater'd plains,
For that, when long the heavy rain descends,
    Bursts over guardian banks their whelming tide!—
    Seldom the wild and wasteful Flood extends,
But, spreading plenty, verdure, beauty wide,
    The cool translucent Stream perpetual bends,
    And laughs the Vale as the bright waters glide.

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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