Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 43. My memory, long accustom'd to receive

   TO MAY, IN THE YEAR 1783.

My memory, long accustom'd to receive
    In deep-engraven lines, each varying trait
    Past Times and Seasons wore, can find no date
    Thro' many years, O! May, when thou hadst leave,
As now, of the great Sun, serene to weave
    Thy fragrant chaplets; in poetic state
    To call the jocund Hours on thee to wait,
    Bringing each day, at morn, at noon, at eve,
His mild illuminations.—Nymph, no more
    Is thine to mourn beneath the scanty shade
    Of half-blown foliage, shivering to deplore
Thy garlands immature, thy rites unpaid;
    Meads dropt with [1]gold again to thee belong,
    Soft gales, luxuriant bowers, and wood-land song.

1: Kingcups. 

1. Sonnet 7. By Derwent's rapid stream as oft I stray'd
2. Sonnet 1. When Life's realities the Soul perceives
3. Sonnet 31. O, EVER DEAR! thy precious, vital powers
4. Sonnet 51. Hope comes to Youth, gliding thro' azure skies
5. Sonnet 14. Ingratitude, how deadly is thy smart

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