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Poem by Anna Seward

Sonnet 50. In every breast Affection fires, there dwells

In every breast Affection fires, there dwells
    A secret consciousness to what degree
    They are themselves belov'd.We hourly see
    Th' involuntary proof, that either quells,
Or ought to quell false hopes,or sets us free
    From pain'd distrust;but, O, the misery!
    Weak Self-Delusion timidly repels
    The lights obtrusiveshrinks from all that tells
Unwelcome truths, and vainly seeks repose
    For startled Fondness, in the opiate balm,
    Of kind profession, tho', perchance, it flows
To hush ComplaintO! in Belief's clear calm,
    Or 'mid the lurid clouds of Doubt, we find
    Love rise the Sun, or Comet of the Mind.

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 28. O, Genius! does thy Sun-resembling beam
  4. Sonnet 45. From Possibility's dim chaos sprung
  5. Sonnet 78. Sophia tempts me to her social walls

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